


Play Pretend

by dontmindme_imafangirl



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Bokuaka - Freeform, Fluff, House Party, I don't know what else to tag..., KuroKen - Freeform, M/M, OTP Feels, POV Multiple, So much angst, Teenagers, iwaoi - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-30
Packaged: 2018-06-02 21:17:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 37,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6582769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dontmindme_imafangirl/pseuds/dontmindme_imafangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kuroo has a thing for his childhood best friend. Well, if it can be called "a thing" so many years later. As does Oikawa Tooru, for his respective best friend. As does Bokuto for his own friend and setter, whom he left behind when graduating high school.</p><p>With all the surpressed feelings in mind, this is a story with a lot of play-pretends, ships and wild uni parties. </p><p>(And with that being said, it is also the first fan fiction I'm ever posting, so it'd mean the world to me if you gave it a read. Lots of fluffy, angsty, and happy BokuAka, IwaOi and (mainly) KuroKen ensured!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love and other horrors.

\--------------------------

 

The season was finally changing. Slowly but surely, the cold of winter was giving way to the crisp scent of spring, days getting longer, wind getting a more calm attribute. Coats were practically pointless by now, but that didn’t stop Kenma from hiding himself in his training uniform, hood of his jacket pulled way up and over his blonde mess of hair.

“You slacked off again at practice didn’t you?”, he smirked, voice fuzzy through Kenma’s headphones.

“Did not”, Kenma mumbled in reply, his hands lazily tapping through one app after another, his 30-minutes-and-counting call with Kuroo glinting green at the top of his screen.

“Is Lev giving you trouble again?”

He sounds tired, Kenma thought, hearing the slight edge of Kuro’s voice

“Mm, not really. He’s getting better. Still annoying as usual though”  
“Really? I need to see that. How’s he doing with receiving? He really needed to work on receiving last I-“

“Didn’t you have practice today as well?” Kenma interrupted, mostly because knowing that though tired, his best friend would never stop talking about volleyball unless prompted to, but also because the last thing he wanted to do at the time was talk about Lev.

Kuroo huffed an affirmative noise in reply.

“Maybe you should go rest.”

“Awe, Ken-chan is concerned about me?” Kuroo’s mocking (but not mean, never mean) voice echoed through the phone. Kenma wished he could send him his usual glare through their call, but settled on silence from his end. 

“I’ll go take a shower and chill a bit once you reach home safely. God knows you’ll get too absorbed in Neko Atsume or something and stand in the middle of the street until a car hits you.” Kuroo sighed, a picture of Kenma in this position already painted in his head.

“So you _did download it”_

“Wha-no! …Maybe. That fat cat looked interesting.”

“Mhm” ,Kenma hummed; it took less than a week to make Kuroo succumb to the addiction that is Neko Atsume, he wondered how long until he got him into Love Live.

“I’m almost home anyway. You should go. You’re meeting up with Oikawaa and Bokuto afterwards.”

“And they can handle themselves just fine if I’m 10 minutes late-wait, you just huffed-laughed at me didn’t you? Why did you huff-laugh at me?!”

Kenma stifled his laugh further before replying.  
“…Kuroo, it takes 30 minutes to style your hair”

“…Shut up”, he managed after a while, evidently admitting defeat to Kenma.

“Anyway, I’m home now”, Kenma mumbled, pulling his keys out of his backpack and stuffing the phone back in his uniforms’ pocket, headphones still in place.

“Okay. Skype ya later tonight, if you’re up?”  
Kenma mumbled in agreement.

“Awesome, see ya Kenma.”  
“Bye Kuroo.”

 _I lo-_  
The words almost slipped Kuroo’s mouth, but he ended the call right before he could, eyes widening in surprise. Shit, what was that, the third time he almost did that? Fourth? He lost count somewhere along the line.

“Bro. Broo. You almost threw the L-word back there didn’t you?”  
Bokuto’s head popped out of the bathroom door and into Kuroo’s bedroom, peeking at him with those stupid owl-brows of his (Yes, Kuroo called them owl-brows. No, he couldn’t care less that owl-brows isn't a word). 

Kuroo just groaned, pushing his hand through his hair, dropping back down on his bed.

“You should just tell him dude. Like, it’s Kenma we’re talking about. You guys are practically dating already.”

“You of all people should know it’s not that easy Bo.”

Bokuto took his reply as an invite, stepping into Kuroos' room with his hair still tousled and wet from his shower. 

“Mm, it’s exactly because I get it that I know that you should just tell him already.”

Kuroo turned his head to face his best friend at that, an eyebrow raising as if by reflex.

“Oh ho? And is _that_ what you did with Akashi?”

Bokuto threw him a glare, as menacing as he could when his wet hair made him look about as menacing as a baby owl.

“That’s a different matter! I at least _TOLD_ him how I feel about him!”  
“Oh yeah? And how did you do that?”

“I-“

“You yelling **‘I LIKE YOU AKASHI CONTACT ME NEVER’** right after graduating and then running away doesn’t count.”, he smirked, raising his voice in a high-pitched manner to imitate his best friend.

“I WANNA SEE YOU DO BETTER YOU ASSHOLE” he yelled, throwing the towel wrapped around his shoulders head-first into Kuroos’ face.

“We’re all pretty pathetic aren’t we.” Kuroo sighed.  
“Yeah. At least Tooru actually got a step further than us two.” Bokuto replied, remembering their conversation with Oikawa from last month.  
“Yeah, Tooru may have had sex with Iwazumi more than once, but do you see them walking around hand in hand and expressing their gay undying love for each other?”

 

Both men hummed at that in agreement. 

“Then again, Tooru is an entire different story.”

“True, true” Kuroo replied. “So, shower free? Can I use it now?”

“All yours bro! Don’t bother styling your hair, it’s just gonna be us 3 chilling and talking bout our horrible love lives-plus, you take like, over 30 minutes to style that mess of yours”

Exasperated, Kuroo threw his arms up in defeat.  
“WHAT DOES EVERYBODY HAVE AGAINST MY HAIR.”

“Dude. Even _gravity_ goes against your hair when you style it like that. Don’t bother.”

Kuroo didn’t know if he wanted to pull his hair out, or pull his best friends hair out.

_Maybe Tooru’s. Damn Tooru and his hair-care commercial hair._

At that, the tall man sighed and got up, grabbing a pair of sweatpants lying on the floor, and the first shirt he found from his closet.  
“Chin up kitten-boy; You’ll get to whine all about your sad gay unrequited crush on your childhood best friend for the next couple of hours”, Bo laughed, teasingly slapping Kuroo’s butt on their way out of his bedroom.

“Don’t say the U-word. It makes this all too real.”

“What word”, Bo teased, raising his brows and throwing an innocent look at his best friend's way, “Universal? Unicorns? Urine, maybe?”

Kuroo barely spared him a glance before heading into the bathroom.

_Unrequited crush on your best friend. Hah. Isn’t that how all those stupid rom-com movies start?_


	2. Pity Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Kuroo is in for big surprise, and the idiotic trio throw themselves a pity-party. Fun times!

"And then Iwa-chan turned to her and said "What am I, his bodyguard?" It was SO obvious he was jealous, I don't see how he doesn't realise it himself!"

Tooru smacked his beer can on the table he was sitting cross-legged in front of, looking to his two friends for verification of his story.  
Kuroo was barely paying attention to his friends' rambling, and was content with using Bokuto's lap as a pillow, both of them, sprawled out on Oikawaa's bright red couch ( _What a hipster,_ Kuroo thought, _red couch AND cacti in every fucking room of this place?_ )

"Bro, I feel ya. I feel ya." Bokuto's nodded at Oikawa's way, "he is so into you and doesn't even realise it!"

Tooru hummed in response, getting up and onto his knees, resting his elbows on the small living room table. "I know right! Does he need me to spell it out for him? I mean come on, we've had _sex_ twice. Twice!”

"That just makes you fuck buddies Tooru", Kuroo sighed. He was already feeling drowsy, and was seriously considering crashing at Oikawa’s;his bed was more than enough for two people, plus, it was one of those cozy soft beds that make you never want to get up, unlike Kuroo’s discomforting mattress (or maybe it was just the lack of Kenma sleeping next to him, just like he did at their almost daily sleepovers back home. Any bed wasn’t as welcoming without Kenma in it).

“Now that’s just rude! There’s no way Iwa-chan would ever think that!” Oikawa gasped, pulling Kuroo out of his thoughts.

“Friends with benefits then, whatever kids these days call it”, Bokuto offered, lightly smacking Kuroo’s head for stirring their messy-haired friend up.

“Ah, I’m done-I’ll just drown my sorrow in alcohol, one of you two idiots can go ahead and talk about their equally pathetic love lives.” Tooru sighed and took another big sip from his beer. 

“Did you ever think of just..you know, telling him that you’re in love with him?” Bokuto asked, fingers lazily tangling and untangling in Kuroo’s mop of jet-black hair that was covering his lap.

“Thanks for the life advice, Boy meets World. How’s your pathetic love life going?”

“Fuck off, I was just making a suggestion”, Bo groaned, “And you already know that my love life is as nice as a summer’s day. Except everything is on fire and the police is after me and that summer night is actually a scene from Final Destination V.” 

Kuroo couldn’t help but laugh at that, slowly pushing himself off of Bokuto’s thighs to go grab another drink from Tooru’s kitchen.

“I mean, how can that gorgeous, gorgeous genius of an idiot _not_ have noticed, for the past 3 years, that I’m head over heels for him? How?!” he groaned, lolling his head back on the sofa.

“I don’t know Bokuto-maybe you should just _tell him_? Oh wait, you did. How did that work out for you?” Tooru mocked, his grin meeting Bokuto’s feigned shocked expression.

“You asshole!” he yelled, throwing one of those zebra-patterned pillows Oikawa was so proud of, in said person’s face. 

“Bokuto touch my pillows again and help me God I will cut off your dick and sent it to Keiji myself!” Tooru groaned, throwing the pillow back in the silver-haired boy’s face.

Kuroo huffed at the view of his two friends acting like school-children, letting their voices fade out as he headed into the kitchen.

He opened the fridge, and was about to grab another can of beer when his phone started to ring, the typical Neko-Assume opening ringtone that he set specifically for Kenma (not that he’d ever let him find that out, of course).

 _Why’s he calling me past 2 a.m?,_ he thought, _isn’t tomorrow a school day?_  
Unless…  
Shit.

“Eyo, Kuroo speaking~” he greeted cheerfully, putting on his typical happy attitude.

“Kuroo…”

_Shit. Shit shit shit shit shit._

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I-um…”

He could hear the uncertainty in his best friends voice, mixed with small shaky breaths, the way he often became when he felt stressed.  
Kuroo hated being away from him the most at times like this. When he was back home, he’d always climb up to Kenma’s window through that tree they tried to build a treehouse on when they were young, would get in and comfort his best friend, either letting him rant about his day or just distracting him altogether.

“I…need your help.”  
“Anything. Just say the word.” his voice came out with a hint of pure certainty, despite the small knot that was slowly settling in his stomach.

“This-I don’t really-“

“Kenma.”  
“It’s about-um, it’s about Lev.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.  
“O…kay?” 

“I-there’s really no way to say this via phone.”

Kuroo didn’t even think twice.

“Gimme a sec, I’ll grab my stuff and head home, I’ll Skype you once I’m there.” he said, already grabbing his coat and keys from the apartments’ entrance.

“You don’t have to…it’s-“  
“Nope. Not hearing it. Gimme just a couple of minutes to get my stuff together, I don’t live that far away from Tooru anyway. Want me to stay on the line?”

There was a moment of silence from Kenma’s side, before he replied with a small “No…”

“Sure?”  
Kenma hummed in response.

“Alright”, Kuroo replied, after assessing in that Kenma wasn’t lying. “I’ll call you back in a bit.”

With that, he ended the call before Kenma could protest, and headed back to the living room to say goodbye to his friends.

“Hey hey hey, Neko-lover, where are you going?” Bo cocked his head to look at his best friend, raising one eyebrow suspiciously. Tooru just shook his head, already assuming what was going on.

“Sorry guys, duty calls.”

“More live your _kitten_ calls, isn’t that right?” Tooru snickered, hiding his smile behind the sleeve of his ‘X-files’ sweater.

Kuroo glared at him before turning back around to the apartments entrance to put his shoes back on. 

“You guys have fun being drunk and sad, Bo, you got keys, and Tooru, for the love of anything you have left sacred-your dignity not being one of them, don’t go to class tomorrow with a hang-over; you holding a scalpel whilst nursing a headache isn’t the most delightful of thoughts.”

Tooru whined in response, already seeming fairly light-headed.

“Ok, I’m out guys, see ya tomorrow” he grinned, but then turned and left as fast as possible, the knot in his stomach not disappearing despite his calm facade.

————

Typically, going back home from Tooru’s place would take him a good 15 minutes in the bus and another 15 walking.  
Tonight he was home in 20 minutes flat.

The moment he opened the door to his and Bokuto’s apartment, he instinctively barged to his room and grabbed his laptop, not caring that he still had his shoes and jacket on.

He opened up Skype, looking through his recent contacts to find Kenma’s username, green light showing that he’s online lighted up next to his name. Kuroo called him instantly, and was surprised to find Kenma responding to the call immediately.

“Kuroo.”

Kenma didn’t look up at Kuroo to acknowledge his presence on the other end of the call. He was sitting with his back on the headboard of his bed, his head resting on his knees, oversized pyjama bottoms and a hoodie engulfing his small body.

“Kenma. What’s wrong? What happened? How is Lev involved?”

Kenma looked up at him through the camera, his eyes showing evidence that he wasn’t sure of what to say.

“Kenma. Did he…did he do something to you? I swear, if he did-“ Kuroo clenched his fists at that, the thought of anyone hurting _his_ -hurting Kenma fueling up his anger.

“He didn’t Kuroo;he didn’t do anything _per say_ …” he shook his head, once again turning himself away from the camera.

“But?” Kuroo cooed.

“But…”, he sighed, “But, I think he has a crush on me.”

Kuroo’s eyes widened at that.

“What.”

“He…I know he’s generally a very touchy-feely person”, he said, scrunching his nose at the words _touchy-feely,_ “and I understand that some people are generally more prone to skin contact, but…I’ve explicitly expressed how uncomfortable it makes me, but he still persists. He tries to hug me in the morning practices, picks me up without permission, gets this doe-eyed look whenever we talk…”

Kuroo was sitting upright, clinging to the edge of his bed.

“I could assume all this was just a part of his character and what-not, except, I overheard him talk with Taketora today by the lockers. He was talking about me…” Kenma lowered his head again, bob of blonde hair falling in front of his face almost like a curtain to hide him.

“What did he say.”

Kenma breathed in deeply, shaking his head.

“He…expressed how he finds me to be to…” he shook his wrist, making a little circle in the air as if trying to come up with an appropriate expression, “…to be his type.”

“His _type?_ That _kid_ has a _type?!_ ” Kuroo was practically yelling by now, but he couldn’t help it-a surge of feelings was flowing through his body and he had no idea to which one he should respond to first.

“Taketora seemed equally uncomfortable to be part of this conversation. I left before they saw me.”

Kuroo clenched the fist on the arm that wasn’t holding the computer firmly on his lap.

“So you’re telling me Lev has a crush on you. Lev is gay, or bi, or pan. And Lev has.a crush. On you.”

Kenma nodded.

Kuroo sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“How do you feel about that, Kenma?” 

“Why are you asking me this.”

Kuroo looked at the screen with a clear pain in his eyes. 

_No. There’s no way, but what if…what if Kenma likes Lev?_

Kenma sighed.  
“Of course I feel uncomfortable with this Kuroo. Lev is a nice kid, but he is just that. And he is a very tiring person to manage. I feel very uncomfortable when he tries to initiate contact with me. This situation is…draining.”

Kuroo let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. Ok, so, Kenma wasn’t into Lev. But…

“You got yourself in quite a situation then huh. You can’t really reject him if he hasn’t confessed yet. And you can’t give him the cold shoulder or anything since that’d affect the team.”

Kenma nodded, already feeling tired from talking this much.

“To be honest here Kenma, I see no other way out of this than you talking to him.” _Which would mean you’d have to deal with conflict, so theres’ no way you’d do that,_ Kuroo thought.

“There _is_ one thing….”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow.

Kenma looked straight to the camera, and into Kuroo’s face, which was struck with surprise.

“Kuroo. Will you please date me?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE! Kuroo said yes and they lived happily forever after. :D  
> If only. >:)
> 
> I got so hyper from posting my first chapter, that I edited and finished the second one, though I'll probably regret this in the morning, seeing how late it is...oops?
> 
> That being said, please ignore any typos/syntax/context errors, I'll edit them afterwards!
> 
> Also, finally, the plot is going to be kicking off from here on! Please look forward to it, and thank you for taking time to read Play Pretend <3 I know there was barely anything on IwaOi/BokuAka in this chapter, but the next few will make up for it!
> 
> P.S: I'm sorry, Lev. You did nothing wrong ;-;  
> P.S.2: If you're wondering wether that Free! 50% off reference was necessary (virtual hugs to you if you got it)...yes, yes it was.
> 
> See you at the next chapter!


	3. Bad Habits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma is pissed. Iwaizumi is pissed. Tooru is pissed. It's a very angry chapter, really.

Kenma hated early mornings.   
Well, it’s not that much that he _hated them,_ as it was that he hated that he had to be awake during them. And running up and down a gym court, nontheless.

“Kenma! Toss to me, toss to me!” Lev grinned, pointing to himself. They were practicing tosses and receives, something that Kenma couldn’t squiggle his way out of. 

Kenma sighed, but did as Lev requested and with an even breath, tossed the ball to Lev, who with quick strokes of movement reached for it, ready to hit it over the net, eyes full of concentration…

…Only to hit nothing but thin air, ball flying right by his side and ending up on the other side of the court.

HAHAH! Oh MAN, that was BEYOND pathetic!” Taketora squealed, bending over with laughter.

“It-it’s not pathetic!! Even amazing aces miss sometimes too! Isn’t that right Kenma?” he squealed, turning back to Kenma with wide eyes.

“Not really…” Kenma sighed, moving to grab another ball from the basket to continue tossing.

Lev gasped, feigning shock as he clenched his chest. “Kenma! How could you say that! Admit that I’m an amazing ace. Admit it!”

Kenma looked up to the Russian kid’s face with pure apathy, ball now in hand.  
“….Not really.”

Lev scrunched his eyebrows.   
"Oh yeah?" , He reached for Kenma, and before the shorter boy could do anything, Lev picked him up swiftly off of the ground and held him up in the air his hands firmly holding Kenma’s sides.

“Admit it Kenma!”  
Kenma kicked and moved his feet frantically, hating the physical contact he was putting up with, and hating being so far off from the ground just as much.

“LEV! PUT OUR SETTER BACK DOWN RIGHT THIS INSTANT!” Taketora screamed, making his way suddenly to Lev from the other side of the court.

Lev yelped and immediately put Kenma down, raising his hands up as if in surrender.

Kenma wheezed out a breath, trying to calm his racing heartbeat.   
His skin burned at the contact, making his gut clench in an uncomfortable way.

“Don’t do that to people man, you’re freakishly tall, anyone would freak out over being held up like that! Especially Kenma!” Taketora scolded, pointing his index finger at Lev’s direction.

“Hm? But he’s so cute, how can I help it? He has this squeezable look! Right?” Lev cocked his head, eyes bright and smile wide as he talked to Taketora, who just shook his head in disappointment.

“Kenma, if this kid gives you any trouble again just-“  
Taketora stopped midway when he noticed their setter was clenching his stomach, bending over himself as if trying to curl into a ball and hide himself among the ones flying above the net in the court.

“Kenma? Kenma!” he mastered after a minute, hands reaching out to stabilise the shorter man.

“Don’t touch me please” Kenma wheezed out, holding out a hand to stop Taketora from approaching him further. “I’m fine. I’m okay.” he said, barely believing it himself; that clench in his stomach was becoming more intense, and he knew it wouldn’t go away unless….

“Lev”, he breathed, looking up to meet the tall boy’s horrified look. “Talk. Outside. Right now.” he continued before straightening himself up, one hand still wrapped around his stomach and clenching into the side of his shirt.

Lev gulped but nodded, following the shorter boy outside the gym and into the school courtyard.  
Neither of them noticed the quietness that befell the courtroom, the shocked looks everyone had at Kenma-small, quiet Kenma, barking commands to the boy twice his size. 

“Kenma-kun? Did I do something? Did your stomach get upset when I picked you up? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to do that, let me just go and-“

Kenma glared at the boy behind his blonde mess of hair, the edges of his mouth dropping low. 

“Lev. Please refrain from touching me from now on.”

Lev scrunched his brows in confusion.

“But why? I thought you-“

“I don’t like you touching me. I don’t like people touching me. And if that’s not enough, Kuroo doesn’t like having people touch me.”

Lev’s eyes widened, the first syllabus of the sentence he was about to form hitching in the back of his neck.

“Wh-what does Kuroo have to do with this?”

“As my _boyfriend,_ he is not particularly fond of others touching me this casually.”

“Your-wait-what?!”  
Kenma sighed, finally letting the arm cradling his stomach fall into a fist by his side.

“My boyfriend, Lev. I am dating Kuroo, and he strongly dislikes how…touchy-feely you’re being with me. And so do I. Please refrain from doing that from now on.”

“I didn’t-I didn’t know you were…”

“Gay? I’m not.”

“But you’re-“

“I am utterly indifferent to gender.” Kenma sighed, tired of having to explain his sexuality and himself so often. The only one who just accepted it without questions was Kuroo, but he didn’t have the luck of meeting anyone else like that.

“And, Kuroo is your bo-your partner?”

Kenma nodded.

“I didn’t know that.”  
“Now you do.”

Lev nodded slowly, letting himself process all this information.

Kenma could feel the surge of energy from before leaving his body, so he turned to go back to the gym.

“That’s that, so please, keep this conversation in mind” he said as a final word and walked away, leaving a slack-jawed Lev behind.

 

***************

Iwazumi was cradling his head in his arms, elbows resting over the nest of notes and books he had made all over the library’s desk, when he heard his phone vibrating by his side.

Sighing, he picked it up and opened the screen, already assuming who it’d be.

TEXT FROM: Trashcan  
>>Iwa-chan~ I’m at the library, come study with me (｡◕ ∀ ◕｡)

Iwazumi sighed once again before replying.

>>I’m already there. Second floor, to your left, close to the wall.

He wasn’t particularly fond of having to deal with the hyped-up mess he called his best friend, but rather than causing his phone a seizure by the chain of messages he’d receive until Oikawa found him, he’d rather get straight to the point.

“Hajime-san, they say if you sigh you’ll chase away your happiness.”  
Yachi smiled at him from across the table, her notes and books organised neatly while an array of colourful pens covered a large part of her side of the desk, all neatly in line and categorised by colour, almost as if mocking Iwazumi’s mess of a study-area.

“I doubt that; Tooru chased it all away the minute I met him” he huffed, obviously not being serious, but still being a tad frustrated, mainly because of the amount of work he had left.

“Hmm…I don’t really think you mean that, Hajime-san. In fact, I think you mean quite the opposite”, she grinned, cocking her head to the side allowing her pigtails to cover her neck. 

Before Iwaizumi could reply, he heard his best friends all too familiar ‘Yahoo~’ greeting, and was met with a bright, cheerful Oikawa Tooru, king of the hipsters, wearing tight black jeans and a ridiculous black t-shirt covered with little green aliens and spaceship designs, matching plain black glasses resting atop his nose.

“Iwa-chan, I can’t believe you suddenly decided to study! And we’re like what, only two-thirds into the school year? I’m proud of you!” he grinned, voice light and high-pitched as it gets when he’s being especially pretentious and loud.

“Ah but then again, how can you find anything in this mess?” Tooru gasped, leaning in close to Iwazumi so he could examine his cluster of a desk. “How did you manage to bring the entire contents of your dorm here Iwa-chan?” he teased, putting one elbow on his _very_ angry best friend’s shoulder.

“Oikawa…” he clenched his teeth and slowly turned his head to Tooru’s direction, who, knowing that look, immediately pulled away from Hajime and laughed.

“I’m kidding I’m kidding! Don’t murder me Iwa-chan!” 

Tooru turned his attention to the petite girl sitting across from Iwa-chan _-his Iwa-chan,_ when she huffed a small laugh behind her cardigan’s sleeve.

_Oh. Well then._

“Well, and what do we have here.” 

Oikawa’s voice deepened, the light cheerful attitude from before immediately replaced by a sinister twist, eyes focused and dark enough to make Yachi yelp, despite the wide smile never leaving his face.

“My oh my Iwa-chan. If you said you were studying with such a cutie I wouldn’t have _interrupted,_ you know?” his smile broadened, big enough to cause even Iwazumi’s stomach to clench before realising just what was going on.

“And who might you be, Cutie-chan?” he said as he put both his elbows on the desk, leaning forward to get close to Yachi, who was inching her way back as far as possible, eyes never meeting with Oikawa’s face.

“Ah-I’m, hi, I’m Y-Yachi! I’m Hitoka Yachi!” she wheezed , shutting her eyes and covering her face with her arms in an effort to keep away from Oikawa’s intense presence.

“Yachi-san. Well, aren’t you a _doll_ ” he hummed, rolling the word ‘doll’ in his mouth as if it was a slur.

“Oi, Tooru. Cut it out.”

“Hm? Cut what out Iwa-chan? I’m just getting to know Cutie-chan a bit better. Since she’s been keeping Iwa-chan _company,_ or so it seems?” he turned his head back to Hajime, high-pitched voice returning yet the petrifying look never left his eyes.

“Hitoka was visiting a mutual friend from my university, and she asked me if I could help her out with some problems she had on biology, when she find out that’s my major.” Iwaizumi explained, not taking anymore of Tooru bullying Yachi. He looked pointedly at her to verify his words, seeing her nod frantically at him, eyes still not meeting Toorus’.

“Biology? Really? Did she ask you for some _hands-on_ teaching, maybe?” Oikawa grinned, the malicious colour seeping back into his voice.

Iwazumi slammed his hand on the desk, electing a few angry stares from the surrounding students.

“Will you cut it off? Either fucking shut up, sit down and study, or leave.” 

Oikawa looked at Hajime with a look that Hajime couldn’t quite pin-point, despite knowing Oikawa for so long. It was a look he kept getting lately, but couldn’t remember a time where he had seen it before, couldn’t cross-reference it with other instances.

“Um, Hajime-san, I was about to tell you that I have to go soon, our um, our mutual friend is going to meet up with me downtown.” she said, hurriedly throwing all her things back in her bag, still avoiding all eye-contact with either one of the men standing across from her.

“Are you sure? You were still making notes a minute ago-don’t let this asshole” he said while pointing to Oikawa, “scare you. He’s pretty much always like this”

“You wound me Iwa-chan. If you're always this mean you’ll never find a girlfriend” Oikawa turned to look at Hitoka,“Unless of course, you already did?” 

Yachi dared to lock eyes with Tooru while packing her things, and that split second of looking into the depths of hell was enough for her-she grabbed her bag, bowed and thanked Iwaizumi, and ran out of the library almost like she was being chased (and chased she was, by Oikawa’s sly smirk and pointed eyebrows).

“Oops, looks like I scared little Polly Pocket away.” he shrugged, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“Tooru. The fuck?!” Iwaizumi groaned, turning to finally face his best friend.  
“What? All I did was greet her, but apparently that’s too intimidating for her?”

“She’s a kid Tooru. She’s still in high-school.”  
“As were you, a few months ago” he pointedly replied. “I didn’t know you had a thing for short girls though.”

“Tooru. Yachi’s gay.” he whispered, suddenly remembering they’re not alone in the entirety of the library.

Tooru knew his expression just then must’ve been one of pure, pure shock and embarrassment.

“Oh.”

“That mutual friend is her girlfriend. Remember the hot manager from Karasuno? Kiyoko, that’s studying business at my university? That’s the girlfriend.” he sighed, turning his attention back to the messy desk, before deciding to shove everything in his backpack as they were.

“Ahh, Mole-chan. Damn. I guess it’s true what they say-all the really beautiful people are gay-wait, why are you packing your stuff?!” 

Iwazumi glared at him whilst zipping up his backpack and towing it over his shoulder.  
“You pissed me off. I’m going home.”

“Iwa-chan, come on..” he whined, tugging lightly at the sleeve of Iwazumi’s t-shirt. 

Hajime said nothing, but turned to look at Tooru, before heading towards the library’s exit.

“Iwa-chan! Iwa-chan hold up!” Oikawa rushed behind him, following him out of the building.

“Hajime!!” he yelled when Iwaizumi put a big distance between them, pointedly moving forward without turning to look at Tooru, but came to a halt.

Oikawa caught up to him, grabbing him gently yet securely by the wrist.

“…Sorry.” he huffed, his expression that of sincere remorse.

Iwaizumi looked at him for a minute before sighing, turning his body completely so he could equally face Tooru.

“Why do you always do that?” he asked.  
“Do what?”  
“Intimidate all of the people I’m even merely acquaintances with.” 

“Bad habit?” he smirked, scratching the back of his neck.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow.

“Look, let’s just say that I have a very very bad habit of monopolising.”

Hajime still looked at him with an distasteful look, pursing his lips but not tugging his wrist free form Tooru’s hold just yet.

“And let’s just say that this…habit” he breathed, reaching closer to Iwaizumi and leaning his face close to his so that they were nose to nose with each other, “is not very easy to handle. And especially not when it comes to you, Iwa-chan”. 

He was close enough to feel each of Toorus’ breaths on his face, making his face flush with heat.

“Well, learn to fucking handle it” he hissed, looking straight into Oikawa’s eyes.

“Maybe I will, some day.” he laughed, touching his forehead with Hajime’s.

“But for now, how about you let me indulge in it a little longer? Preferably somewhere more private?” he hummed and licked his lips, looking down at Iwazumi’s very own, slightly parted mouth. 

“Private? Why private?”   
_What is this idiot thinking?_

“Well Iwa-chan, I don’t mind public sex, but I didn’t think that that’s something _you’d_ be into” he gasped, pretentious shock veiling his features.

_Oh._

“Fuck off, Trashkawa.”   
“Is that a yes?”

Iwaizumi took one look at Tooru’s face, before grabbing his wrist and pulling him away from the library. 

“It is what it is.” he said and tugged Tooru behind him, in hopes that he wouldn’t catch sight of the crimson that was covering his face.

“It is what it is.” Tooru hummed, letting himself be tugged all the way back to Iwaizumi’s dorm.

_It is what it is._

*******************

Kuroo was chain-smoking what must’ve been his fourth cigarette of the night, when he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

TEXT FROM: Space Boi *alien emoji*  
>>Bro. Bro. Bro. Bro I fucked up.

He sighed and leaned his weigh on the porch’s railing before replying.

>>Bro. Same.

He huffed a laugh at the excessive usage of ‘Bro’, a bad habit Bokuto rubbed off on both of them.

TEXT FROM: Space Boi *alien emoji*  
>>How big of a fuck-up are _you_ talking about? ;D;

>>Massive. U?

He didn’t have time to pull another puff from his cigarette before his phone was vibrating again.

TEXT FROM: Space Boi *alien emoji*  
>>Enough to involve fucking the person involved in said fuck-up. 

>>Bro. Not again.

TEXT FROM: Space Boi *alien emoji*  
>>Oops (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑)~ And what did you fuck-up this time?

>>My entire friendship with my childhood friend, probably.

He received a string of messages at that.

TEXT FROM: Space Boi *alien emoji* (3)  
>>KUROO  
>>WHAT  
>>HAPPENED?!

Kuroo took in a deep breath.  
>>Tooru. I’m. sORT OF. dating Kenma.  
>>Oops?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Bad Habits is my fave The Kooks song, ok, ye.)
> 
> I live and breathe for possessive, dark Oikawa Tooru. But also for cute cheerful Oikawa Tooru. My life pretty much is Oikawa Tooru. :D
> 
>  
> 
> I know this was the perfect chapter to add a smut scene but...I gotta admit. I never wrote smut before. Please give me a few chapters to mentally prepare myself for that, lol~
> 
> Also, if the texting dialogues are a bit confusing, please do let me know-it's the first time I wrote something like this, so I hope it's not too confusing. 
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! I'll probably post the next chapter sometime this week, once I'm done with some horrible, horrible Latin exams I have this week. *sigh*
> 
> If it helps-a special someone that hasn't made an appearance yet will, very, very soon. Stay tuned ;)


	4. You have mail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Twitter + Tooru = So much sass. So. much. sass.

**********************

 

“Explain. Now.”  
Bokuto leaned himself on the table, eyes fixated on his best friends face, clearly discomforting him.

“Wow. You know, there are steps to this Bo. Getting me a coffee, taking my number, asking me out for a date…”  
Kuroo gulped when he saw that his friend was having none of it, his face never contouring into his usual cheerful expression.

Kuroo sighed. “Fine, fine. Just give Tooru a sec to get his damn spicy potato latte or whatever and I’ll talk.”

“It’s called a chai tea latte, you twat ,and if that’s how you’re gonna be, I’ll just take back your Americano. Or dump it on your hair. Actually scrap that, dumping it on your hair sounds wonderful right now” Tooru groaned, staring holes through his glasses at the monstrosity Kuroo called his ‘hairstyle’.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning” Kuroo mussed, but thanked Tooru for the coffee.  
His friend just scoffed and sat across from him and next to Bokuto, both men staring expectantly at him.

Kuroo wondered why those two didn’t pursue a career in the police force. They had gotten down the art of interrogation already.

“Well. Um. As you know from the very articulate message I sent both of you-“

“Articulate my ass, it was like your hair got shoved on a keyboard and suffocated it to death.” Bo huffed.

“Yes. As I said, articulate. Anyway, um. Kenma asked me to date him.”

Both his friends raised their eyebrows, looking dubiously at each other.

Kuroo cleared his throat before carrying on, hands fiddling with the lid of his coffee.

“Lev has been pining him for a while now and he was getting upset about it, so he asked me to _‘date’_ him, in order for Lev to stop.” he continued, making air-quotes at the word _date_.

“Oh.” Tooru offered, his previously strong gaze now becoming pitiful.

“Indeed. So, that’s that. And I, as a good friend, have to pretend to be his boyfriend in front of Lev. This Saturday. At that party Yaku is hosting? Yeah, he invited some second years from Nekoma, and _of course_ Lev had to be one of them." he added when he saw his friends' confused looks. 

“Bro. That’s harsh. But you could see it as an opportunity y’know?”

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at that.

“I don’t know how that ever came to be, but the owl-idiot is right. Kuroo, you have the perfect opportunity to confess to him.”  
Kuroo looked at Tooru as if he had just grown a third head. Or maybe as if he suddenly said he’d shave his hair and grow a beard and become a hipster monk. 

Bokuto wasn’t any better off, nodding in agreement to Tooru’s statement.

“You are of course shitting me.”

“Think about it Tetsu-you are fake-dating him anyway. Why not real-date him? What’d be the harm? He must like you, even subconsciously, to ask you of that!” Bokuto continued.

“Yeah. Sure. How about no fucking way?”  
Kuroo was having none of it, and the displeased looks his friends threw at him weren't about to change his mind. No matter what.

“I’m not destroying a relationship built over this many years over a whim guys. I can’t.”

It was Tooru’s turn to play the bad cop, standing up and walking over to Tooru’s side, his tall figure looming over the sitting boy.

“A whim? I have known you for over three years now and you have been pining over this kid from day one, and you call it a _whim_?!”

Kuroo gulped, forgetting for a moment how Tooru, sweet grumpy Tooru, was actually very, very ferocious if given the chance.

“If you even _consider_ this a whim, then you’re better off leaving Kenma to date someone who’ll actually cherish him more than you do right now!”

Kuroo clenched his fists but nodded. Tooru was right, this was no whim. He didn’t just have ‘a thing’ for his childhood best friend. From the very first day that they met, his heart stung in his chest, with a longing he couldn’t figure out at such a young age. He only knew that he wanted to be close with the quiet boy, wanted to protect and cherish him in ways he didn’t even know how.

“Sorry.” he sighed, looking back up at Tooru then down to his coffee. “It’s not ‘a whim’. I’m just…scared.”

Tooru’s stern expression softened into a small smile, and he patted his friend on the back. “And scared you should be. Shitting bricks even. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t tell him.”

He could tell Tooru wasn’t just speaking about Kenma at that instant, his voice melting into a more mellow, sad tone, that hid his own longing behind it, but as fast as it appeared, it was gone.

“So, that’s that! You’re confessing to Kenma this weekend. He’s going to be staying over at your place right? Make sure to take _full_ advantage of that!” Tooru grinned and clapped his hands, returning back to his seat and grabbed his coffee nonchalantly. 

“Tooru, if it all goes well-which it _will_ ” Bokuto pointedly looked at Kuroo, “I might need to crash at your place. I don’t want to be scarred for life.” 

“Of course Bo-chan. We’ll have pre-drinks at my place, you’re welcome to crash there afterwards” Tooru grinned, reminding Kuroo that they’d arranged to all meet at Tooru’s place before the party, along with some of the other members of their old volleyball teams.

Kuroo sighed and shook his head, and though grateful to his friends, he wasn’t sure wether he should trust them or the weight settled at the pit of his chest.

“Anyway, you guys, I have got to tell you about this shitty anatomy lab I had today-remember that young assistant that keeps hitting on me in lectures? Well, I asked him to tell me what this tiny bone in the wrist is called and-“ before Tooru could continue talking about what would probably end up being him bragging over ‘ _what a handsome doctor he practically is already_ , Bokuto’s phone vibrated, alerting him he had a message. 

“Wonder who that is” he mussed and cheerfully checked his phone, only to raise an eyebrow and turn the screen to his friends.

“Huh. Anyone know this number? They’re not on my contacts list” 

The two men looked at the locked I-phone screen that displayed an unknown number with the simple text message alert.

“Hm, looks familiar but not really?” Kuroo cocked his head. “Could just be a wrong number. Check it anyway, you never know.” he said and leaned back to rest his head on the back of the chair.

“Yeah, it could just be one of my classmates-we’re working on this ridiculous group project about archeology, and I may know like, half the people from it. Gimme a sec.” he said as he unlocked his phone and opened up the messaging app.

His two friends simply moved back to their conversation about the ‘cute assistant that’s flirting shamelessly with Tooru’, until they noticed the paleness in Bokuto’s phase.

“Woah! Shit, Bo? Are you ok?” Kuroo had never seen such an….emotional and yet dumbfounded expression on his best friends’ face before.

“Koutarou? You okay there? What happened?” Tooru gently shook his shoulder, but Bokuto didn’t budge, his eyes still ridiculously wide and hands loosely holding the phone in place.

Tooru nodded at Kuroo and grabbed the phone from Bokuto, twisting his chair to get close to Kuroo so they could read the message.

TEXT FROM: Unknown  
>>Bokuto. Good day. I’m sorry for the sudden message, but seeing how you changed your phone number, getting a hold of it was difficult, and I really felt the urgency to sent you this. I know Kenma will be visiting Kuroo this weekend, for Yaku's get-together party. I will be going as well, and was wondering if I could see you, if that’s okay. We really need to talk. I don’t appreciate leaving conversations unfinished.  
-Akaashi Keiji.

Kuroo’s mouth fell wide. Tooru raised his eyebrows, not expecting this in the least bit.

“Bro. Bro. BRO.” Kuroo was shouting, but he didn’t seem to notice. He got up and shook Bokuto’s shoulders roughly.  
“BRO IT’S AKAASHI. AKAASHI.”

Bokuto, still dazed, nodded at Kuroo, who just shook him even harder.  
“BRO AKASHI IS TEXTING YOU. HE’S COMING OVER. KENMA'S ALSO COMING OVER. BRO.”  
Bokuto raised his eyes to meet Kuroo’s, quietly replying.  
“Bro. What do I do? what do _we_ do?”

“Bro. I don’t know.”

Bokuto got up, looking at Kuroo and grabbing his shoulders, so they were both almost embracing.

“Brooooo.” Bokuto squealed, his eyes so wide that his irises were almost engulfed by gold.

“Bro. I know. We’re fucked. Both of us.”

Koutaru choked back a groan before clashing in what could be described as the ‘manliest hug ever’ with his slightly taller best friend.

Meanwhile, Tooru looked inexpressively at his two friends, silently sipping his latte.

He opened up Twitter and started writing a post.

‘@God. Why. Why couldn’t I have normal friends. @Kuroo_Tetsurou @Bok_Koutarou 

He sighed and hit ‘post’, pondering all the meanwhile how he ended up with these two idiots.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Make way, Akaashi’s coming! Also, I feel that Tooru would be a very avid Twitter user, whilst Bokuto definitely, definitely, definitely runs a meme blog. Kuroo is probably that guy that can’t choose one theme, so one post is a sex gif whilst the next is how to bake cookies without an oven or something. ((Not relevant to the story but I had to share this head canons~))
> 
> It’s such a short chapter, sorry, I barely had time to write it and didn't quite proofread, so excuse any mistakes! Big plot development coming your way at the next chapter! :)


	5. Est quod est.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the angst begin! >:)

************

“I cannot _believe_ we’re doing this. This is insane. This is insane. **This. is. insane** ” Bokuto was jumping up and down frantically, his hair turning into the kind of mess he was on the inside from his over exaggerated movements.

“I know man, I know. I can’t believe Tooru replied to Akaashi without telling you first. And he told him he'd stay over at our place! I can practically _feel_ the awkwardness already. Brokward.” Kuroo had his hands in his pockets, trudging rather than walking with Bokuto to the train station to pick up their biggest fears; Kenma and Akaashi.

“And where is that idiot space fucker now? Huh? Not here, that’s where! He sent a text from _my_ phone, said I’d _gladly talk to you Akaashi, you can even stay over at my place if you’d like!_ and now he’s _gone_?!”

“I know. But it’s ok, I mean…you were going to tell him to stay with us anyway, weren’t you?”

“No! Yes. I don’t know. Maybe.” Bokuto puffed his cheeks and looked away, dread settling in his chest at the thought of seeing Akaashi again after 3 months.  
Had it been that long already? He could still remember the day he confessed to him so clearly.

**  
_”Congratulations on graduating, Bokuto. I knew you could do it.”_  
Akaashi had a soft smile decorating his face, one of those smiles Bokuto always craved to see but rarely did.  
The graduation ceremony had ended a while ago, the sun already begun to set, and people had already started to disperse and leave, only a few students staying back to congratulate themselves and their friends, some with tears in their eyes and others laughing, hugging, smiling.  
“Of course I could do it, what did you think?” he grinned broadly, wanting nothing more than to yell his feelings out for the world to see, the joy and fear and sadness his heart was threatening to spill out.

_They were walking side-by-side to the school entrance, Bokuto already took off his blazer and threw it over his shoulders whilst Akaashi hummed next to him, properly dressed as always._

_Bokuto took a few tentative steps forward before coming to a halt, making Akaashi clash his shoulder on Koutarou’s back._

_“Bokuto, what’s the matter?”_

_Bokuto didn’t turn back to look at Akaashi, not until he took a big breath and closed his eyes._

_“Akaashi. Thank you.”  
He turned to look at Akaashi, at the sight that made his heart skip a beat every day, the boy that caused his stomach to disperse into bits and pieces. He smiled as sincerely as he could, secretly regretting not being more reserved with his smiles, so that they could be further etched into Akaashi’s memory, be thought of more fondly._

_Akaashi’s eyes widened for a moment, before the soft expression from before returned to his face, emerald eyes melting into a pool of warmth._

_“Of course.” Akaashi replied simply._

_Bokuto scrunched his face; he could sense it, feel the lump in his throat, the heat that was surrounding his heart thumping against his chest, begging to come out. He had to say it. He had to, if not now, then when? It was the only chance he’d ever have, the only time he’d ever get to face Akaashi in this way-_  
He was going to drown his fear, once and for all. Right now.  
“Akaashi.” he started again, turning his body fully to the shorter man, placing both hands on Akaashi’s shoulders. 

_Akaashi, though seemingly shocked at the whole ordeal, said nothing, making a point to look straight to Bokuto’s face, as he often did; Bokuto wasn’t sure if Akaashi knew that this habit of his caused him to lose sleep, gave him long vivid nightmares of drowning in that intense gaze._

_“Akaashi, I need to tell you something. And I need you to remain calm about it.”  
Akashi shook his head, placing a hand on Bokuto’s forearm._

_“Bokuto, if this is about that time you spilled your orange juice all over my blazer then blamed Yamato about it, I already know it’s you.” he sighed, pushing on Bokuto’s arm so he’d drop them off his shoulders._

_“What-no, it’s not-how do you even know that anyway?! You know what, it doesn’t matter. No, it’s about something more serious than that. Please listen.”  
Akaashi raised an eyebrow, but nodded, his face remaining typically stoic. _

_The longer Bokuto stared into Akashi’s eyes, the more he felt that fear return, crawling from the pits of his stomach and making it’s way into his lungs. His breath was hitched, his arms were shaking; oh God, did Akaashi notice he was shaking? The fear had all but consumed him, limping him of any courage he may have had._

_“Akaashi. I. Well.”_

_He took yet another deep breath. Now or never._

_“I LIKE YOU! I HAVE LIKED YOU SINCE THE VERY FIRST TOSS YOU SENT MY WAY AND I HAD ABSOLUTELY ZERO BALLS TO TELL YOU UNTIL NOW. I REALLY REALLY LIKE YOU, AND I’M LEAVING.”_

_He was all but ready to pass out now, immediately pushing himself away from Akaashi as if it was physically painful to touch him. He didn’t stop to look at Akaashi, to wait for his reaction, his reply-hell, he didn’t want to. He turned swiftly on his foot, and using the athletic built he had cultivated through the years, run away with all his might, right after yelling back to Akaashi “PLEASE, DON’T EVER CONTACT ME, I’M SORRY.”_  
  
**

“Bro. I know you’re a natural-born airhead but can you stop spacing out for a second? You’re kinda freaking me out”.  
When Bokuto snapped out of it, he saw Kuroo’s palm making wave motions in front of his face.  
_Damn, he thought, what a flashback._

“Anyway, in case you didn’t notice; we’re at the train station. They should be arriving any minute now.”

Bokuto yelped but nodded, overwhelming fear perfectly portrayed on both his and his best friend’s face. 

Kuroo turned to him and nodded, raising his arm to move it close to Bokuto, who by reflex, grabbed it and brought him in for a quick hug and a hard pat on the back, which Kuroo reciprocated.

“We got this.” Kuroo huffed.  
“We got this”, Bokuto mimicked.

Before long, the train did arrive, and both men could feel their souls leaving their bodies.  
What awaited for them inside that train was _not_ , under any circumstances, under any and all ill fates, what they were expecting.

****************************  
“Kozume, are you feeling better now? I told you not to play games in the train but you didn’t listen to me.”  
“Mm. But I managed to clear the final stage of the game.”  
“Still, look at you know, you upset your stomach. Tell me if you feel worse, alright?”  
“Thanks Keiji.”

Kuroo and Bokuto stared, dumbfounded.  
_Kozume? Keiji?_

Kenma looked around before setting his eyes on Kuroo, his expression never changing as he slid his way through the crowd coming off of the train and in front of Kuroo, who could not for the life of him process what he just witnessed.  
“Kuroo.” Kenma nodded, looking up at the taller man with big gold eyes.  
Kuroo gulped and forced a smile to his face, feeling the tension moving in-between his shoulders.  
“Hey Kenma.”

Kenma pursed his lips, quickly picking up on the fact that something wasn’t right with Kuroo, but said nothing. Instead, he turned back around to gently tug Akaashi closer to him, taking a hold of his plain black shirt as he was standing a bit further behind the two men, not wanting to interrupt their greeting.

“Keiji. Come say hi.”  
Akaashi smiled at Kenma before moving closer and right next to him, Kenma still not letting go of his hold on Akaashi’s shirt. Kuroo felt like his heart was being clenched and tugged at in the same way.

“Kuroo, hello. Thanks for having me over.” Keiji slightly bowed his head in greeting, before letting his gaze wonder around the station.

“Bokuto’s over there.” Kenma nodded to Bokuto’s general vicinity with his head, to help Keiji set his eyes on the still-frozen mess that was Koutarou.

“Go say hi to him too.” Kenma let go of Akaashi’s shirt and gently pushed him towards Bokuto. Akaashi sighed but nodded, moving away from Kuroo and Kenma and towards Bokuto.

_He let him into his personal space bubble. It took me months to get into Kenma’s personal space bubble._

Kuroo thought he knew Kenma like the back of his hand. He knew his likes, dislikes, what face he made when he was angry and what when he was half-joking. He knew when to give him space and when to tug him close and shower him with attention. He knew everything there is to know about Kozume Kenma, or at least he _thought_ he did, until he saw how easily, how effortlessly Kenma was interacting with Akaashi.  
Was Kenma always like this? Did he always let people come this close to him? Certainly not. Kuroo still remembers Kenma’s reaction when Tooru tried to hug him as a greeting-he almost _hissed_ at him, moving as far away from the physical contact, and as close to Kuroo as he physically could.

So how, _how_ did he just suddenly let someone come this close to him?

“Kuroo. You’re spacing out.” Kenma stated.

Kuroo snapped out of it, forcing himself to look back down at the blonde boy.  
“Oh! Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that.” he grinned, but the look Kenma gave him showed he was having none of it.

“What happened.” he didn’t even ask, he just stated it the way you would say that water’s wet or that the sky is blue.

“Nothing?” Kuroo was so, so, so pathetically horrible at lying to Kenma.

Kenma’s mouth tugged into a pout, his fingers pulling the sleeves of his sweater over them, a habit he initiated when he felt stressed or upset.  
Kuroo sighed. He didn’t want to distress his best friend the minute he set foot in front of him.  
“I had a tiring day. Bokuto has been freaking out all day about Keiji coming to visit. I had to comfort him until God knows what early morning hour.”  
Kenma said nothing but nodded, letting his hands fall out of his sweater and move to hold the straps of his backpack.

“That must be heavy right? Let me pick it up for you.”  
Before he could protest, Kuroo tugged the bright orange backpack, covered with pins and patched, off of Kenma and slid it over his own shoulder. Kenma said nothing but gently tugged at Kuroo’s free arm, the one that wasn’t holding the backpack’s strap, and Kuroo smiled, finally letting a genuine tug pull at his lips.

“Keiji said you were playing video-games in the train?”

Kenma let go of Kuroo, eyes sliding to the side.  
“I told you a million times that that’s only going to make you nauseous.”

“But Kuroo-I finally finished Dead or Alive. On Expert mode.” his eyes were bright with pride when he looked back up at Kuroo, but then, almost immediatly, he scrunched his nose and put a hand over his stomach.

“Idiot,” Kuroo huffed, “let’s go home and get you some medicine. I still have some of that mint tea you like in the cupboards somewhere.”

Kenma smiled gently at Kuroo, letting himself follow him towards the exit.

***************************

“Bokuto.”

No response.

“Bokuto?”

Perfect stillness.

“Koutarou?”

As if that was the magic word, Bokuto’s eyes snapped open, only to have them meet with a mop of tousled black hair, and a set of intense bright eyes.

No, there’s no way. This wasn’t happening, this had to be a dream.

“I’m somewhat terrified, Bokuto. Are you all right?” Akaashi went to put a hand on Akaashi’s arm, but Bokuto leaned away from the touch, eyes roaming every other place in the station but Akaashi’s face.

“Yeah yep, I’m good, all good! Sorry, I spaced out for a minute there, hah~”  
Was he sweating? He was definitely sweating. Bokuto suddenly felt so gross.

Akaashi parted his lips to say something, but Bokuto immediately turned away.

“Look! Kuroo and Kenma are heading to the exit. We should too, don’t wanna lose sight of those two idiots, they’d probably get lost somewhere.” he begun moving to the exit, but not before taking a hold of Akaashi’s small travel bag, leaving the shorter man to only carry the backpack he had on his shoulders-not that that was of any weight, since all the belongings he brought with him were in the bag rolling behind Bokuto.

Akaashi sighed but followed suit, not wanting to get lost in a city he had never set foot in before.

**************************************  
The walk back home was probably the most awkward thing Kuroo had to endure. And that speaks volumes, when it comes from the man that once had to go back home dressed in neon pink boxers and a trench coat because he burned his clothes at a party-gone-wild. 

Kenma had started the walk back walking side-by-side with Kuroo, letting him talk about his day and how lectures were going, getting small replies from Kenma when he asked him things like “How’s school” or “How are practices going” or “Is that ginger shrimp still short?”.

At some point, Bokuto and Akaashi caught up to them, and Bokuto looked like a jelly bean that was thrown in a microwave, limbs placid and legs swaying, almost as if he was drunk at 4:00 p.m on a Friday. 

When Akaashi caught up to Kenma, Kenma’s whole being may as well have damn _sparkled_. A faint tint of pink dusted his nose and cheeks, and Akaashi smiled at him, that sweet rare smile that Bokuto could’ve sworn was reserved for him and him only; and Kenma smiled _back_. 

Halfway through their walk, Kenma was walking side by side with Akaashi, the two shorter boys slowly walking in front of the two taller ones.

Akaashi was quietly talking to Kenma, the sleeves of Kenmas’ over-sized sweater hiding a small huff-the closest Kenma ever comes to laughing except if he’s tickled, when Bokuto found this opportunity to nudge at Kuroo’s shoulder. 

“Bro. What.” Bo whispered.  
“Dude. I know.” Kuroo whispered back.  
“What the hell?! Since when are they so close?!”  
“I knew they talked to each other via texts and Facebook and whatnot, I remember Kenma mentioning it sometimes but I never thought…”  
“I know. I don’t know what to make of all this.”  
“Same.”

They looked at each other. Kuroo’s fingers were aching to reach inside his pocket and pull out his carton of cigarettes, but he decided against it, knowing how much Kenma hated the smell of smoke.

“This is gonna be awkward.”  
Kuroo laughed.

“I expected nothing less.”

************************************

 

Tooru had had enough. He looked at the page over and over again. He read it out loud, he turned his gaze away and covered the page with his hands, then shut his eyes and tried to recite the words, but they kept slipping his mind.  
He tried drawing it but ended up with a pathetic excuse of a drawing.

He must’ve been going through what was his third mid-life crisis of the day when he felt a light tap on his shoulder.

“Oh wow, you’re studying with this old book? I thought the cool kids nowadays just pirated their book copies off of the internet.”

Oikawa was close to cursing the hell out of whoever interrupted him, when he looked up and his mouth fell open.

“You know, there’s an easier way to memorise all this right? I think I showed you guys the Youtube video in class. The skull’s a pretty hefty chapter. I could never remember the _os lacrimale_ for the life of me, until I found out that _lacrima_ is tear in Latin.”

Of all the people he was _not_ in the mood to see today, the anatomy class assistant that constantly, shamefully flirted with him was in the very top of his list. Ok, maybe second top; the first top was always reserved for Donald Trump, or that really creepy girl that kept liking his over-a-year-old Facebook photos.

“I could help you, if you’d like. It’s all a matter of having the right person explain it to you at the right time. Though of course, some hands-on practice never hurt anyone.”, he winked, and leaned closer to the table Oikawa was sitting at, books and notes scattered all around him.

Tooru had to admit, this man wasn’t half bad-looking; he had big blue eyes and long locks of chestnut hair that he usually wore up in a bun, and a bit of a scruff around his perfectly-scalped jaw that Oikawa swore someone could get cut by if they touched it. The rest of this man wasn’t any worse for wear, if his Instagram gym-pictures were anything to go by, or the strong arms nestled under his tight fitting t-shirt.

Even so, other than the handsome appearance, this guy ticked Oikawa off to no end. He was cocky, he _knew_ just how handsome he was, and was the most shameful flirt Oikawa had ever met.

If Iwaizumi ever met him, he’d definitely never call Oikawa ‘a pretentious trashcan’ ever again.

“How…nice of you to offer. But I’m not interested in the slightest bit. Anatomy’s not one of my weak points.” _Biochemistry on the other hand…_ Oikawa sighed.

“With that face? Anatomy is your strongest point. I mean, you got it all down to the bone structure.” he grinned.

Oikawa felt an unpleasant shiver run down his spine, and he shifted away from the other man’s hungry gaze. He usually liked attention, yes, but ever since he discovered how he felt about Iwaizumi, he didn’t like to get it. Not if it wasn’t by Iwaizumi Hajime.

“Look, I’m really trying to study here. I have a quiz this Monday and I’m short on time to learn the entirety of the facial bones in Latin so could you, I don’t know, politely let me be?”

“And what if I give you a _private_ lecture about the face? Perhaps give you a few _hints_ to remember it? Preferably including my anatomy meeting yours?” He was leaning closer than ever to him, his scruff dangerously close to Oikawa’s face. 

Oikawa scrunched his nose but before he could protest further, he heard a cough coming from behind his teacher.

“Ahem. I’m sorry, am I interrupting anything?”  
Iwaizumi was standing right behind the teacher, his arms folded in front of his chest, his expression distorted with scrunched eyebrows and a deep pout.

“You can tell for yourself that you are.” the teacher groaned, glaring at Iwaizumi.  
“You were making him uncomfortable.”, Hajime stated.  
“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t” the teacher retorted, moving away from Tooru and closer to Hajime, standing upfront and just a tiny bit taller than Iwaizumi.

“You were.”  
“Was not.”  
“You were.”  
“How would you fucking know that I was?!” the teacher was yelling by this point, crossing his arms to meet Iwaizumi’s stance.

“I know you were making him uncomfortable because that’s _my_ boyfriend you were fucking shamelessly flirting with.”

Oikawa made a choking sound.

“Your _what_?! He never said he had a boyfriend?!” the teacher’s arms fell to his side, taking a step back from Iwaizumi as if he was on fire.

“Well, he does. And I’d appreciate it if you backed the fuck away from him from now on.” Iwaizumi took a step forward, nearly backing the teacher up to the wall next to Tooru’s table.

“Shit man, he didn’t say he was seeing anyone! I’d have backed off if he did!” he held his hands up in surrender, eyes wide and frantic when looking straight into Iwaizumi’s pure, stoic anger.

“Oh? So him being a human being that has clearly asked you to back off is not enough? He needs to have a specific commitment to someone else in order for you to respect his privacy and comfort?”  
Shit. Sometimes Oikawa forgot how eloquent Iwaizumi could be, even at the oddest of times.

“Well, if you’re that much of a shitty creature then yes, he is fucking dating someone, and no, he is not interested in you or your disgusting beard-wannabe.” 

Oikawa could sense the tension rising, could see how everyone around them turned to look at the two men, and immediately got up and in-between Iwaizumi and his teacher, trying to calm both of them down.

“Iwa-chan, it’s okay, I’m pretty sure he meant no harm. And Iwa-chan’s right, I do feel uncomfortable, but mainly because you two are making such a big _fucking_ ruckus. Could you stop?” he tried his best to glare at both of them, raising his arms as a barrier between the two men.

Iwaizumi never broke off eye contact with the teacher, who was equally intently staring back at him, until Hajime grabbed Oikawas’ shoulder, spun him close to him and pulled him in for a kiss, short enough to last a moment, but long enough to make Tooru momentarily forget their surroundings, wanting nothing more than to get lost in the heat of Hajime’s lips on his.

“That’s how it is. So back off.” he said and glared back at the teacher, his arms never leaving Toorus' back.

The teacher nodded slowly and backed away, heading straight to the cafe’s exit like a scared animal.

Iwaizumi sighed and let go of Oikawa, his skin tingling at the loss of contact.  
“Sorry about that”, Hajime said sheepishly, “I knew that was the assistant that’s been giving you shit lately, so I thought you’d like a permanent solution to get it over with.”

Oikawa couldn’t articulate any form of answer in his current state. He just nodded, eyes still wide behind the frame of his glasses, and moved to sit back down, quietly moving his books to make space for Iwaizumi to move his own books and notes at as well, since they had decided to study together a while ago.

“Are you okay? Did you perhaps _want_ that beard-guy to flirt with you?”

Oikawa clicked his tongue and shook his head. As attractive as he may look, that guy did nothing more than get on his nerves. The only man he wanted to get touched by was Iwaizumi, and that’s that.  
“Alright then. Sorry about the kiss too. I got caught up in the moment and wanted to give that guy a lesson.” he turned to sit down across from Oikawa, slowly moving his notes out of his backpack.

Oikawa shook his head again and run a hand through his hair, chocolate-coloured tuffs moving and falling at the contact.

“It was just in the spur of the moment you know? Nothing more. So, sorry.” he elaborated, an uncomfortable look clouding his face. He moved a hand behind his neck, looking away from Oikawa, suddenly feeling embarrassed about the whole ordeal.

Tooru sighed, moving to pick up the set of notes he was reading before all this.

“ _Est quod est_ ”  
He looked at Iwaizumi over the rim of his glasses, his mouth settling into a small sad smile, the type that Iwaizumi always thought doesn’t suit a face like Tooru’s.

“Hm? What was that?”

He shook his head and moved back to his notes.  
“Nothing”, he mumbled, “absolutely nothing.”

Of course it wasn’t ;nothing'. But what could he do?  
He talked to Kuroo about facing your feelings head on, convinced Bokuto to not avoid certain conflict but face it and fight for what he wants, but in all honesty, it was ironic for him to make his friends do that, when he had no intention of doing so himself.

After all, Oikawa Tooru was the biggest coward of them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve done 4 Latin tests in this year and yet I had to use google to make sure that phrase was correct :)))))
> 
> As promised, this is quite a big chapter, that I had so much fun writing. There are a few things here and there that I might come back and edit later, but I have a shit-ton to study (Oikwas frustrations aren’t totally made up-though I’m not doing anatomy right now, embryology’s just as bad ;-;), so I’ll be posting just a tiny bit less next week, until I come back full-force the week after. Sorry about that!
> 
> BTW, I don’t know how obvious or not it is, but Oikawa’s supposed to be in med school, whilst Iwaizumi’s doing Marine Biology. I haven’t had the chance to clarify that so I thought I would now. As for Kuroo and Bokuto…well, just wait and find out (if you haven’t figured it out-I have dropped a few clues throughout the chapters~)


	6. Dressed to Impress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexy outfits, idiot Cat-Owl-Alien trio, and bittersweet flashback.  
> And awkwardness. This whole fic is a pile of awkwardness. ;-;

****************

“Look man, all I’m saying is, the Deadpool movie was nice and all, but, _where’s the Black Widow movie?_ She’s just as badass as anyone else.”

Bokuto nodded along, resting his fingers on his chin as if in deep thought.

“Though I am inclined to agree, why are you so insistent that Black Widow deserves a movie more than Wonder Woman?”

“Because, she’s a Russian badass. Plus I wanna see her background story in film, ya know? Get it all out there and explained clearly.”

They had tried their best to make the whole ordeal as not-awkward as possible; at first some forced laughter and tiring conversation ensured, but eventually the four men managed to get more comfortable with each other, making themselves at home at Bokuto and Kuroo’s living room after their two guests arrived.

“Kenma, thoughts?” Kuroo nudged him with his elbow.

Kenma was sitting quietly on the sofa, somewhat squashed between him and Akaashi.

“No opinion.” he huffed, not even peeking up from the game he was so engrossed with on his PSP.

“Kenma~” Kuroo whined. 

He could feel that things weren’t quite right still. If this was any other day, Kenma would be leaning on him. He’d shift his weight to lie down on Kuroo’s lap, game raised up above his head to play, or Kuroo would put his chin over Kenma’s mop of hair and let his smaller friend settle on his lap. He never noticed the lack of contact- _lack of Kenma_ until it was gone, just like it was right now.

He was sitting right next to him, but Kenma wasn’t leaning on Kuroo. He was perfectly settled in the middle of the two boys, knees up to his chin, hidden in his oversized sweater and skinny jeans.

“Come on now Kenma. You told me you couldn’t wait for Civil War to come out right? I’m betting you’re a total Team Iron Man fan.”

Kenma clicked his tongue and glared at Akaashi, an action Kuroo never saw him do before, but as soon as he did it was gone, face returning back to his usual stoicism, hands never leaving his console.

Bokuto gasped.  
“You’re Team Iron Man? Kenma you _wound_ me.”

Kenma moved quietly, shifting so that he’d be closer to Kuroo.

_oh?_

Kuroo swore he felt his soul leave his body when Kenma’s weight finally settled on him, Kenma’s side meeting Kuroo’s forearm. The boy looked up at him expectantly, ignoring his game for a second despite it not being on ‘pause’. 

Kuroo didn’t know wether the feel of Kenma’s heat on him was comfortable or nauseating. He wanted to grab a hold of him, to hug him tight and melt in his touch, but at the same time he wanted to move as far away from him, to the other end of the room, because his skin felt like it was on _fire_. 

Kenma pursed his lips when he saw Kuroo wasn’t responding to the touch, and moved to inch closer, forcing himself under and through Kuroo’s arm, and practically into his lap.

Kuroos’ breath hitched in his mouth, his body not corresponding to the signals his brain sent him-  
He moved away.  
In the end, he moved away from the touch. 

The shock etched on Kenma’s face, the _hurt_ was so evident it made him want to cry. He smiled, knowing how forced it looked, _feeling_ how forced it was and laughed.

“Sorry Kenma, but I’m not helping you out on this one. I’m Team Captain all the way!”

Kenma didn’t stop staring at him, now falling over to Kuroo’s previous spot on the sofa, Kuroo having stood up and standing in front of them.

“Anyway, I’m gonna go make some coffee. Akaashi, coffee sounds good? Kenma, I’ll find your mint tea so don’t worry.”

Akaashi smiled politely, despite the questioning look in his eyes.

“Coffee sounds great, thank you.”

Kuroo nodded and run to the kitchen, feeling like a murderer leaving a crime scene.

He couldn’t breathe. He tried but every breath wasn’t deep enough, it felt like he was breathing with one lung. Like something inside of him was missing, a big, _big_ part of him. He moved his hand to his chest, clenching and unclenching the fabric of his shirt.

“Bro. Bro. Kuroo! Look at me.”

Bokuto moved Kuroo and held him in place by the shoulders, gaze focused and worried and locked on to Kuroo’s own terrified one.

“Bokuto. Did I…am I hurting him? Oh God, am I ruining my friendship with Kenma?!”

Bokuto shook him hard, grip of steel on his shoulders. “No. No you're not, you hear me?”

“Did you _see_ how he looked at me? Kenma’s not an idiot. He knows. Fuck he knows an now he’ll never want to speak to me again and-“

Kruoo’s mouth was suddenly covered with Bokuto’s palm, his other hand pinching his forearm.

“Our apartment doesn’t have sound-proof walls you know. You’re lucky enough I shut the door to the kitchen, ‘else both Akaashi and Kenma would’ve heard everything.”

Kuroo nodded, sighing a breath of relief when Bokuto moved his hand.

“Kuroo Tetsurou. You have fucked up absolutely nothing. Now go act normal around the love of your life until you grow a vagina and tell him how you feel.” 

“I thought the phrase was ‘grow a pair’?”

“Yeah but balls are weak. Vaginas are the true badasses.”  
Kuroo couldn’t argue with that. He did make a mental note to ask Tooru later about his opinion as a medical student though.

“Kuro. Koutarou. Do you need any help?” Both men yelped when they heard Kenma, not even hearing the soft opening and closing of the door.

The boy was standing hesitantly in front of them, his fingers tugging on the sleeves of his sweater. 

“Well sure, I’m sure Kuroo needs help with _something_ ” Bokuto nudged Kuroo with his elbow, “This idiot can’t be trusted in the kitchen!”

“Hey now, who’s the one that burned the oven because they tried to bake _POP TARTS_ eh Owl-fucker?” Kuroo yelled at Bokuto, as he hurriedly exited the kitchen, laughing along the way.

“That’s right. You better run, telling me I’m not to be trusted.” Kuroo huffed, resting his hands on his hips.

Kenma merely looked up at him, before turning his gaze back down and heading to the cabinet Kuroo was standing next to, tiptoeing to open it.

“Let me get that for you” Kuroo laughed, standing closer to Kenma to open the cupboard and look around it for Kenma’s favourite mint tea.

“Kuroo. Are you perhaps uncomfortable with the idea of us fake-dating?”

Kuroo freezed, hand hovering in front of the cupboard.

“I didn’t expect you to agree to it when I suggested it. I assumed you’d help me figure out a way to talk to Lev, or laugh about it or something.”

Kenma sighed, gently touching Kuroo’s mid-air hand and pushing it back down to his side.  
“All I’m saying is-if you changed your mind, I’m fine with it. I’ll just tell Lev the truth and find another way to deal with him, as I have before.”

“No.”  
“Hm?” Kenma looked up at Kuroo, gold gaze meeting gold.

“No, I am not uncomfortable with it. I promised you before didn’t I? That I’d be there whenever you needed me? That I’d protect you? No going back on that promise.”

Kuroo remembered that day clear as day, despite how many years ago it had been.

**

_”Kenma! What happened to you? You promised we’d go play volleyball today at the park!” Kuroo groaned the minute he opened the door to Kenma’s bedroom, only to find the little boy hidden under his covers, face turned away from him and towards the wall._

_“Don’t wanna.” Kenma replied quietly, the only acknowledgement he gave to Kuroo’s presence.  
“But Kenma you promised!”_

_When he got no reply, Kuroo huffed, moving to jump up and sit on his friends’ bed. Kenma still didn’t turn his face towards Kuroo, or even move out of his covers for that matter, so Kuroo took things to his own hands-in an impulse, he pulled down the covers and flopped into the tiny space between Kenma’s body and the wall._

_He was about to laugh, mention how Kenma was just like a little cat, when he noticed how the intense gold of his friends’ eyes was hazy, clouded with a fog of glistening tears._   
_“Kenma?”_

_Kenma sniffed and hid his face in the hem of his shirt.  
“Go away Kuroo. I don’t want to play volleyball. I don’t wanna go out. I don’t want to do anything.”_

_Kuroo could feel his heart splitting in two.  
Reluctantly, he moved his hands to touch Kenma’s face._

_“Kenma. What happened…?”_

_The gentle touch only made Kenma cry harder, small sniffles now coming out as full sobs.  
Kuroo moved his hand to the back of Kenma’s head, and pulled the younger boy to his chest, letting him cover his face in Kuroo’s shirt and stifle his cries._

_Kuroo rested his head atop of Kenma’s, nestling his nose in the mess of dark black hair, cooing his friend and rubbing soothing circles on his back._

_“I don’t like the kids at the park. They laugh at me. Call me names. I don’t belong there Kuroo. And you shouldn’t be here right now either.”_

_“But I am. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”_

_Kenma moved away from Kuroo, facing him despite the redness of his eyes and the tear streaks decorating his face._

_“Kuroo. If they see you with me they’ll just make fun of you too. Go out there and play with them. Be happy.”_

_Kuroo sat up. “I’m not going anywhere” he huffed, folding his hands in front of his body._

_“Let them say whatever they want. I want to play with you, not them. And they’ll never know what they’re missing not being friends with you.”_

_Kenma shook his head, sitting up so that his palms rested on his knees. “You don’t know what things they say Kuroo.”_

_Kuroo reached out and grabbed Kenmas’ hands in his own.  
“I don’t care! And if they’re making you uncomfortable, I’ll stop them. I’m not letting them hurt you, Kenma.”_

_He could feel his breath hitching, his stomach churning at the sight of Kenma-of the beautiful, sweet boy, his friend, crying, feeling unaccepted. He never wanted to see this look on his face ever again._

_“Kenma, look at me.”_  
Kuroo let go of one of Kenma’s hands, to raise his hand in front of their faces, extending his pinky to Kenma.  
  
__  
“I promise you, I’m never letting those mean boys hurt you ever again. Or anyone else. From now on, I’ll protect you, always. Got it?”  
  
_Kenma could feel his eyes burning, with more tears threatening to come out, but he nodded reluctantly, unable to form words under the intense look Kuroo was giving him, a gaze so certain and sincere that he knew it was pure and honest._

_“Got it” he breathed, extending his own pinky to meet and tangle with Kuroos._   
_“Good! Now, let’s go get your face washed up and we can play volleyball together, just the two of us”, he grinned, “I’ll go tell your mom we’re going to go out!”_

**

“You still remember that. We weren't even 10 years old.” Kenma huffed, though he couldn’t help the small smile that formed on his lips.

“Of course I do! If Lev’s giving you trouble, if _anyone_ is giving you trouble, I’m here. Always. So you better not forget that, you idiot.” 

Kenma nodded, but no matter how much reassurance Kuroo was giving him, he couldn’t ignore the tightness in his chest, telling him that something was going to go wrong, very soon, very fast.

Kuroo sighed, not sure if it was out of relief or worry, but either way he pushed his thoughts to the back of his mind, and returned to the task at hand; making coffee and avoiding another mental breakdown.

Kenma silently moved to his side, giving him enough space to work, but didn’t move to exit the kitchen, and for once, Kuroo enjoyed the silence enveloping them.

He was about to ask Kenma how come he became so close with Akaashi, when his phone vibrated, alerting him he had a message.

He picked his phone out of his pocket.

TEXT MESSAGE FROM: Space Boi *alien emoij*  
>>CAT-FUCKER! WHERE ARE YOU? YOU GUYS PROMISED YOU’D HELP ME FIX UP THE PLACE FOR THE PRE-DRINKS!(● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ु⁾⁾

Kenma peeked towards Kuroo’s phone, but other than that remained silent next to him.

“Well”, Kuroo huffed, “Better drink that coffee really fast-hell hath no fury over a scorned Oikawa.”

******************************

Bokuto was shaking. His foot tapped the floor rhythmically, he clenched and unclenched his fingers, he cocked his head from side to side.  
 _It’s just the excitement for tonight_ , he pathetically tried to convince himself, _I am absolutely, most definitely NOT intimidated by an 18-year-old beautiful, beautiful, terrifying boy. That so happens to be sitting next to me. That so happens to want to talk to me about something serious, but hasn’t gotten around to it yet._.

It had been about an hour since Kuroo made them coffee and moved to his bedroom with Kenma so they could go get changed for tonight. Bokuto was already dressed, taking it easy with a simple pair of loose-fitting black jeans and a plain white t-shirt, the only effort he actually put, being to tidy up his hair ( _If making yourself into an anime protagonist counts as tidying up_ , he could practically hear Kuroo snickering).

He thought that Akaashi would do the same, that he’d look the same as he did in his school uniform or gym clothes, beautiful but normal, usual Akaashi, but this….this, Bokuto did not expect. He did not, under any circumstances, expect Akaashi to come out of the bedroom he went into to change, wearing tight black skinny jeans, fitting and cupping his slim thighs and ass, red plaid shirt tied around his hips, and a somewhat looser black shirt hiding his frame, but exposing his collarbones. 

“I’d willingly let you murder me.”  
“Excuse me?”   
“Nothing, nothing! Ready for tonight? Tooru takes his pre-drinks responsibilities very, _very_ seriously!” Bokuto laughed, trying to hide the flush creeping up to his cheeks.

“I’m quite fond of seeing everyone again; not so fond of drinking too much though.” he made a point to look at Bokuto at the word ‘drinking’, obviously not trusting Bokuto’s drinking capabilities.

“If it helps, I’m a very sweet drunk?” he offered.

Akaashi sighed but said nothing.

“Ok guys, you ready? Kenma said he just needs another minute or so and we’re good to go”  
Kuroo moved out of his bedroom and shut the door behind him, leaving Kenma to change into his outfit. 

As if in perfect sync with Bokuto, he also wore a tight-fitting shirt and loose jeans, only the colours were the exact opposite from Bo-he was wearing a black shirt and white jeans.

“Bro.”  
“Bro!”  
“BRO!” they both exclaimed at the same time, moving simultaneously for what seemed to be a brofist-meets-hug sort of greeting.

“We are so in fucking sync it’s scary.” Bo laughed, looking at his best friend up and down.  
“Bro. I know. Must be telepathy.”

“You know, people that menstruate and are close friends often times get their periods in sync. It looks like you two discovered the non-menustrating version of that.” Akaashi offered, shaking his head at the sight of the two weird-haired best friends and their matching outfits.

Kuroo grinned at Bokuto who grinned back at him, offering a low high-five.

The door behind the two matching friends opened, and shut, alerting them of Kenmas' presence.

“Are you guys all ready? Tooru texted me saying he’s waiting for us. He seemed very impatient, he even sent me the upside-down smile emoji.”

Kuroo turned to face Kenma, and felt his jaw dislocate from its proper position.

He did see Kenma picking out some clothes from his bag, but didn’t pay too much attention, busy with rummaging through his own closet.

But now Kenma was standing with his back to the door, one hand holding the phone whilst the other just let go of the door handle, falling limply to his side.

He looked…amazing.  
He knew Kenma didn't pay much mind to gender norms, and loved the fact that he didn’t, but he never expected to see his beautiful, tiny best friend, dressed in a short black plaided skirt, matching black socks that reached just to the middle of his thighs with white stripes at the top, and an oversized gray sweater with a discreet alien face on the side, big enough to cover his hands as usual, since Kenma never felt comfortable unless he had something to hide his hands into.   
He didn’t really bother with fixing his hair, allowing them to actually have a bit of a curl, the natural tug and loose strands that fell into his face making the whole look even more endearing.

“Dude. Tooru will trade his nonexistent dignity for that sweater.” Bokuto snickered, then laughing when Kenma’s face scrunched up in disgust.

“He totally would, wouldn’t he Kuroo? Kuroo?” Bokuto switched his tone from teasing to worried, when his friend showed absolutely no response, his face struck with awe and his pupils almost engulfed by the gleaming colour of his eyes.

“Dude. Snap out of it.”

Kuroo gulped but managed to pull himself out of his daze, still not over how utterly _gorgeous_ Kenma looked.

“We’re gonna be date.”  
He gulped when Kenma raised an eyebrow.  
“Late! Late, we’re gonna be late. Let’s go.”

He turned away and walked to the door.

_Kuroo Tetsurou. What the hell have you gotten yourself into._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One may ask why I so very discreetly throw Free! 50% off references into a fic concerning another fandom. The answer, is simple. Because I can >:)
> 
> I MAY have had to go on polyvore.com and look at skirt outfits to write Kenma's outfit. Him with a skirt and Akaashi with tight black clothing....just kill me now ;u;
> 
> Idk if you can call this an angst-break or filler chapter; it was originally combined with the next one, but that'd be wayyyyy too big, so here's half for now, and half later~
> 
> I meant to post daily but have so much to do with uni and stuff, that I'll probably be posting bi-daily or 3-4 day intervals. Sorry~


	7. Pity Shots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wild uni parties=Drinks, Music, and as of now, pain.  
> Lots and lots of pain.

*************************

“Oh! Your majesties decided to show up? I was _this_ close to cancelling the whole thing and just staying in and watching X-files reruns but- _oh._ Is this…Kenma?!”  
Tooru opened the door wider, letting the group of friends come in, taking in Kenma’s outfit from top to bottom.  
He sneered at Kuroo, a sly smile finding its way to his lips.  
‘Good job’, he mouthed at Kuroo, sending a wink his way that was only returned with a look of disgust from Kuroo.

“DUDE! YOUR OUTFIT!”  
Tooru raised an eyebrow, until he looked at his two best friends-now moving inside the apartment, and realised.

“How.” How did this happen.

Kuroo was wearing black on top and white on bottom, and Bokuto vice versa. But Tooru was wearing striped black and white jeans, and a tight fitting white t-shirt with black hem on the arms.

His two friends came to stand next to him, one at each side, and grinned to each other.  
“Bro.”  
“Bro!” Kuroo exclaimed, reaching in front of Tooru to high five Bokuto once again.

“I’m going to go change” Tooru muttered, raising his upper lip in disgust and scrunching his eyebrows.  
He tried to move but he felt a hand on each of his shoulders keeping him in place, Kuroo and Bokuto turning to smile a sinister grin at him, eyes shut.

“You are going absolutely nowhere.” Bo grinned.  
“Kenma! Take a picture, quick!” Kuroo shoved his phone out of his pocket and into Kenmas’ hands.  
Kenma sighed but complied, opening the Camera mode and setting the three boys in the frame.

“WAIT! Something’s missing!” Bokuto exclaimed and rushed out of the entrance and into Toorus’  
living room, swiftly making his way to the bedroom. The rest of the men looked at each other in wonder, but Bokuto quickly returned, holding three almost identical pairs of black circular sunglasses in his hands.

“I never realised why there’d be a need for three fucking identical pairs of sunglasses, but Tooru, I love the fact that you deemed it necessary right now!”

Tooru wanted to retort that ‘They are 3 _different_ brands with different lenses and rim width thank you very much’, but resorted to sighing and putting on the offered sunglasses.

They took the picture, and Kuroo may have non-ironically tagged the words #squadgoals when uploading it on his Instagram.

“Anyway, listen up asshats; People should start gathering in an hour, so help me put the drinks on the counter and Bo, please, despite the fact that you’re…well, you, you’re the only one here with a decent taste in club music. The radio aux is all yours. Kuroo, make your handsome looks useful and go apologise to the neighbours for me, though I already posted an announcement on the announcing board, and Kenma, Akaashi…you guys can just chill and look pretty. You’re making an amazing job out of it already”. Tooru winked at them and moved to the kitchen, dragging Kuroo by the wrist with him.

“Ow you Alien Trash, what’s the big idea?!” He whined when they entered the kitchen, that really didn’t offer much privacy since the apartment had an open living room-kitchen plan.

“Shut up and duck over the counter with me. Drinks are in the lower cupboard”  
Before Kuroo could protest, Tooru pushed him by the shoulders so he’d crouch with him, now hidden from the other men.

“So?” Tooru whispered.  
“So what?!” Kuroo whispered-yelled back.

Tooru rolled his eyes.  
“So what’s the deal with you and Kenma! And Bokuto with Akaashi, for that matter. You guys didn’t text me, I’m worried!”

“Bokuto is doing everything he can to keep it in his pants and avoid a mental breakdown because Akaashi still hasn’t talked to him about the confession. I’ve had a mental breakdown, and might as well be having one now because-Tooru, did you _look_ at him? He’s, he’s-“  
“Adorable? Gorgeous? I noticed, but my question is, what are _you_ doing about it?”

Kuroo shifted his gaze, fiddling with the handle of the cupboard in front of them.  
“I’m…withstanding?”

Tooru groaned.

“ _Tetsurou_. I taught you better than that.”  
“As a matter of fact, Tooru, you didn’t. Unless you professed your undying love to Iwaizumi in the past 24 hours without me knowing.”

Tooru gulped, but said nothing;Kuroo was right.

“It’s not the same.” he offered, and truly believed it. Tooru wasn’t an idiot, he saw the way Kuroo looked at Kenma, but also the way _Kenma_ looked at Kuroo. Iwaizumi would never look at him with such eyes, with such dependancy.

“Really? It looks all too much the same to me. Well, minus the sex part.”

Tooru raised an eyebrow.

“Y’know”, Kuroo waved his hand, “The whole ‘I’m in love with my childhood best friend and am terrified of letting him know’ trope? Yeah, that’s both of us.”

“Ooh are you guys picking drinks? Let me join! I already made a hella bomb playlist and connected it to your shitty vintage radio, all that’s left is for you to hit play~” Bo jumped and landed in a crouch, squishing himself into the middle of his two friends.

“Bo. This guy wants me to confess to Kenma, but he won’t do the same with Iwaizumi.”

“Bro. Not cool.” Bo shook his head, pursing his lips.

“You know what else is not cool? Throwing yourself at the mercy of the boy you confessed and left hanging for 3 months, because you don’t wanna address that issue first.”

“Ouch. That was harsh.” Bo winced.

Tooru replied with a sheepish sorry, knowing that his words hit home.

“Ok. The way I see it, there’s only one solution to this mess.”

Both Bokuto and Tooru turned to look at Kuroo, whose expression was now stern.

“PITY SHOTS!” He yelled and jumped up, grabbing a bottle of dark liquorice-induced vodka from the cupboard. 

“Hell yeah! I love pity shots!” Bokuto pounced his fist in the air, jumping up to grab 5 plastic shot glasses from the counter.

“Why are they called pity shots?” Akaashi pondered.

“These idiots take shots when they find something particularly overwhelming. I don’t even want to know what they consider to be overwhelming at this time though.” Kenma offered, not looking up from his phone.

“Come on boys! Gather round! Kenma, leave your phone on the couch this instant. Come drown your sorrows with us.” Tooru retorted, pouring the dark black liquid into the 5 cups.

Kenma complied, knowing that denying Tooru’s pity-shots was the equivalent of telling him aliens weren't real.

Each boy took a cup in their hands, and Kuroo put his in the air, in the middle of the circle they had formed, Kenma and Akaashi in front of the counter, whilst the three friends were behind it.  
“To overwhelming despair and crippling anxiety!” Kuroo praised, sinister words coming out like a cheer.  
“To overwhelming despair and crippling anxiety!” everybody else mimicked, clinking their drinks together and downing the shot.

“Okay fucktarts; Let’s get this party going!”

*******************************

 

Bokuto, Akaashi soon found out, was not a sweet drunk.  
He was more like a very, very, very…touchy-feely drunk, to put it nicely.

“Akaashi, come do pity shots with me~” He yelled into Akaashi’s ear, barely heard over the blasting music and noise of others around them.

“The only thing I pity right now Bokuto is your liver.” he yelled back, trying to tug himself free of Bokutos’ tight grip on his hips.

“But Akaashi, come on-if not shots, then let’s dance!” he exclaimed, swaying both himself and Akaashi to the beat.

Akaashi groaned; He was not in the mood for this. Not for dealing with a drunk Bokuto, when he was still hurt, still upset, still angry at him. He couldn’t be tempted by the warming touch on his skin or the hazy gold in his eyes, bringing him in closer and closer until he was dancing flush on Bokutos’s body.

“Bokuto. I don’t really want to dance right now” he mumbled into Bokutos’ ear, but he may as well be talking to a deaf man-Bokuto moved one of the hands resting on Akaashi’s hips to the dip of his back, pulling him closer, if that was even possible.  
Akaashi couldn’t fight the heat that rose to his face, the wild drumming of his heart, so out of sync, out of beat with the music that sounded so far away now, the only sound in Akaashis’ ears being the sound of his own blood rushing.

“Bokuto” he sighed when Bokuto rested his face in the crook of Akaashi’s neck, planting small feather kisses to its vicinity.

Akaashi groaned and pulled away, not giving Bokuto the chance to fight back, to bring him close again.

He opened his mouth to talk, but no words came out. Bokuto looked at him, a question in his eyes, but was far too gone to articulate it, and Akaashi was far too sober to deal with this.

“I’ll-I’ll come back later” he stammered and moved to the kitchen.  
If he was going to deal with a drunk Bokuto-He’d have no choice but to stoop to his level of drunkness, he figured.

***************************

“Kenma-chan!” Tooru approached Kenma, who did his best to stay as close to the wall as possible, not being that fond to have to squish himself between so many people, despite (luckily) already meeting most of them before-most faces he recognised from Toorus’ old team, some people from Karasuno were there too, he figured when he saw Sugawara’s sweet smile and fluff of gray hair, accompanied by _was it their captain? It was wasn’t it, Daichi something_. Some of them he did not recognise, simply registering that they must be friends from Tooru, Bokutos’ and Kuroos’ universities.

Tooru easily snaked his way through the crowd and to Kenma, cheerfully leaning his back on the wall next to him and stretching his hands in front of his body, tilting himself on his heels.

“I have a surprise for you~” he laughed, leaning down to look Kenma in the eye.  
Kenmas’ hands found their way to the side of his skirt, clenching themselves in the smooth fabric.  
He didn’t like surprises.

“Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad; I promise you’ll love this one” Tooru offered, immediately picking up on the shifting mood.

Kenma still felt uneasy, but he knew that Tooru wasn’t going to hurt him; he trusted him enough to believe that whatever he was planning, it wasn’t bad.

“Come with me. You’ll see!” he extended his hand, and though begrudgingly, Kenma took hold of it, hating how small his hand looked when grasped in Toorus’. He didn’t however want to lose himself in-between the sea of people, so he held on tight and allowed Oikawa to move him through the crowd and into the apartment’s entrance, where he found a pair of men taking off their shoes and shoving them to the side of the entrance.

“Oikawa-san, where do we put the-ah! Kozume!”  
Before Kenma could reply, a small mass of orange happiness threw himself on him, tangling his limbs with his. “It’s been _ages_! I missed you!”

“Hinata.” he smiled into the smaller mans’ hair, breathing in the fresh scent that Shoyo always seemed to carry with him. 

Looking up, he saw the other man, tall and gruff and glaring, and nodded.  
“Kageyama.”  
Kageyama nodded back, stern look not leaving his face, though by now Kenma knew not to take it that much to mind-as terrifying as it may be.

Hinata pulled back from the hug, grinning up at Kenma.

“You grew taller” Kenma stated. Indeed, Hinata was nearly on eye-level with Kenma. Was it really that long since he last saw him?

Hinata’s grin was almost explosive.  
“Did you hear that Kags? I _did_ grow taller! I did!” he grinned and jumped, squealing with joy. Kageyama just huffed and turned his head away, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

“Or maybe Kenma got shorter.” he replied.  
Kenma took no insult by the statement-it was obvious how the setter was jealous at his close proximity to Hinata.

“So? Was it that bad a surprise? I of course wasn’t all that fond to see _Tobio_ but what the hell, a few more drinks and he can make out with Hinata in the middle of my living room and I won’t even care!” he laughed, ignoring the glare Kageyama sent his way, far less threatening when a blush dusted itself on his cheeks and nose.

“Anyway, you kids have fun; I’m going to go find that idiot cat-lover and steal a cigarette or two from him” he grinned, leaving the three men alone in the entranceway.

Hinata grinned, bright eyes softening even Kenmas’ discomfort at the wave of people.  
“Let’s grab some drinks and sit outside for a bit. We have a _lot_ to catch up on before going to the actual party!”

********************************

“Wow! You mean to say that you actually asked him to _date_ you?!”  
“Not for real. Only to throw off Lev.” Kenma reminded his shorter friend. They found themselves eventually hiding away in Oikawas’ bedroom, shutting the door behind them so they could talk more privately, losing Kageyama in the crowd somewhere along the way, but Hinata brushed it off, assuming he’d probably want to talk to Suga and Daichi too anyway.

Initially, Kenma had no intention on telling Hinata the whole story. He didn’t know what came over him when his friend asked him what’s wrong, instantly knowing something was off with Kenma, despite his perfect- _almost perfect_ facade, and Kenma told him the whole truth, from beginning to end.

He’d blame it on the pity shots tomorrow morning.

“But like…you don’t want it to be fake-dating, right?” Hinata was sitting cross legged on Kuroos’ bed, his blue jeans clashing with Oikawas’ black, space-depicting bedding.

Kenma looked away but nodded, the answer obvious by the twist of his face.

Hinata hummed, setting one hand on his chin.

“So, why don’t you just tell him?”

Kenma looked at him with a raised eyebrow and a scrunched nose. Was he really friends with a person this dense…?

“I can’t, Shoyo. That’ll ruin my friendship with him.”  
“Why would it?” Hinata cocked his head.  
“Because he’s my friend. My best friend. He doesn’t see me in that way. And even if he did, if we started dating. We’d fight, break up eventually. I wouldn’t just lose a lover at that time, Shoyo. I’d lose my best friend.”

Hinata still had his eyebrows scrunched, as if the words Kenma was uttering were in another language.

“I’m dating Tobio. He’s still my best friend, no matter how many times we fight, and he’s my boyfriend at the same time. He knows me well enough and I know him well enough to know we’re both too damn stubborn to not work our asses off for this relationship to work. So I’m kinda failing to see your point here.”

Kenma sighed. He was dealing with not one, but _two_ types of unique idiots.  
Two idiots that in the midst of all of the universe’s chaos, found each other and fit together like a complete puzzle, he thought in envy.

“Be as it may, it’s not that easy with me and Kuroo. I can’t. I can’t do that to him.” Kenma clenched his hands, hiding them in the holes of his sweater. He was sitting on his knees on Oikawas bed, somewhat bothered by the fact that he couldn’t sit crossed legged due to his skirt.

_Damn Akaashi, convincing me to wear this, he thought, it’s not like Kuroo would care. He was probably grossed out, if anything_. Somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to really believe that, despite what his thoughts were yelling.

Hinata leaned close, putting his hands on Kenmas shoulders so that he was almost pushing him down on the bed, if not for the resistance Kenma was putting in to keep them both upright.

“Kenma. You _have_ to tell him. What if he eventually finds a girlfriend or boyfriend and starts dating them? What if you lose your chance, and have to forever wonder what would’ve changed if you told him?”

Hinata’s bright eyes portrayed the exact opposite of what Kenma felt-utter despair.

“That’s the thing” he began, taking a deep breath in hopes that it’d fill the hollow cavity lying in his chest, “I wish he’ll date someone else. Someone he deserves. Someone that’s the exact opposite of me.”

Hinata was blown away by the reply, but before he could answer, he heard the door open.

“Hey Kenma, I figured you’d be here, it’s pretty loud out there-oh.” Kuroo opened the door further, noticing the grasp of Hinatas’ hands on Kenmas shoulders, the close proximity of the two boys. “Am I interrupting?” 

Hinata immediately pulled away from Kenma, raising his hands up.  
“No! Nope! I am 100% platonically touching him, and am very in love with my boyfriend, who just so happened to be my best friend! Whom I’m actually about to go find right now! See ya later Kozume!” Hinata could never quite get over the intimidation he felt by Kuroo. Despite him not meeting him in court anymore.

Hinata rushed out the door and Kuroo huffed, softly closing it behind him. 

Kenma looked up at him but said nothing, still sitting on Oikawas' bed, suddenly a hundred times more conscious over himself; on the skin exposed by his skirt, the mess of his hair, the heat on his cheeks. _Was he always like that? Must be the alcohol._.

“So um; We should probably start gathering up and heading to the actual party. People started to leave anyway. Wanna help me find Tooru so we can also head out?”  
Kuroo rubbed the nape of his neck, avoiding eye contact with Kenma at all costs.

_Am I that bad of a sight?_ he thought, hating the distance he felt between him and his best friend; it was like any bridge that ever existed between them was starting to wear off, to grow old and break one piece at a time; and it was all Kenmas’ fault. All because he asked Kuroo to be his ‘boyfriend’. 

_Good job Kenma. You fucked up again. Like every other time._

Kenma nodded and got up, swiftly moving away from Kuroo and through the door, but was stopped by a hand tugging his wrist.

“Um! I-the skirt. It suits you. I mean-um, you, you look good.” Kuroo was still not looking him in the eye, head ducked down and hiding from Kenma, but when he let go of his wrist, Kenma left the room with a somewhat lighter step, feeling like he could breathe just a tiny bit easier.

_Maybe_ , he thought, _just maybe, that bridge is still sturdy. Even if shaky._

 

*********************************  
Oikawa was on a roll. He looked good, the people he invited were more than happy, drinking and dancing the night away, the mood was perfectly set for the party that was to follow, and he managed to grab a few cigarettes out of Kuroos’ pockets despite his friends’ protest.

He gave himself a mental pat on the back and moved through the living room and onto his veranda, shutting the door behind him so he could quietly sit outside and smoke his cigarette in peace.

It must’ve been less than a minute, barely enough time for him to drag the first puff into his mouth, when he heard the verandas’ glass door opening and closing again.

He assumed it was just Kuroo so he didn’t move himself away from the railings to see who it was. He was too busy trying to remember when he watered his cacti last anyway.

“Please tell me you also grabbed a lighter from Kuroos’ pocket. I lost mine.”  
Oikawa smiled around his cigarette.

“And how do you know that I even came near Kuroos’ pockets now?”

“By the fact that you’d only smoke Marlboro Classics’ if you were wasted enough to pester Kuroo for cigarettes. Plus, you usually smoke those fancy long cigarettes, Vogue or Gucci or whatever.” the gruff voice behind him replied, moving to shift his weight next to Oikawas on the railing.

“You actually remember fashion houses. I’m pleasantly surprised.” he laughed, his voice too quiet, too sincere, before he grabbed a lighter out of his pocket and bringing it in front of Iwaizumis’ mouth, cigarette already between his lips.

Iwaizumi smiled in reply, and let Oikawa light it up for him.

“Sorry I was late.” he offered after a moment of silence, both men content in the silence, only noise being the thumping of glass because of the loud music inside.

“It’s fine. I made Kuroo and Bokuto help out instead.”  
“I think I saw Sawamura in there too?”

Oikawa nodded. “After all, the party afterwards is more like a volleyball teams reunion, if anything. I wouldn’t be surprised if that tall beardy guy appeared all of a sudden too.”  
“You mean Asahi? Wasn’t he in France in a culinary school or something?”  
Oikawa shrugged.

He shifted his gaze to look at Iwaizumi. He was leaning his weight on one elbow, resting on the railway that was covered in different types of cacti and succulents. His shirt was unbuttoned down to his collarbone, the darkness outside cutting sharp edges on his jaw and prominent bones.

_Beautiful_ Oikawa thought.

“What is?” Iwaizumi huffed, smoke coming out along with his words. 

Oikawa didn’t miss a beat, despite not realising he said that out loud.  
“You.”

Iwaizumi faltered, coughing whilst dragging his next puff of smoke. He glared at Oikawa, eyebrows scrunching with distaste.

“Cut the crap Trashkawa.”  
“But I’m serious.”

Tooru took a tentative step closer to Iwaizumi, who had pushed himself away form the railing and stood straight, body turned to Oikawa.

When he didn’t move, Oikawa took another step forward, moving one hand to rest on Oikawas’ cheek, moving to touch his jaw, the nape of his neck.

He took another step closer.

“I’m serious.”  
The gap between them was bridged, physically. But Oikawa was no fool. There was no bridge to cross mentally, no room for his overbearing feelings of love, of _anything_ to make their way into Iwaizumis’ heart. Hajime loved him, of course. But he didn’t love him the way Kuroo did Kenma. The way Bokuto did Akaashi. 

The physical connection was there. The emotional one never was.  
He smiled a hollow smile as he pulled Iwaizumi close, closing his eyes and moving to kiss him, when he felt a push on his chest.

Opening his eyes, he saw Iwaizumi, stern expression on his face. It didn’t suit him, not in the least bit.

“No.” he said, lips forming a thing line.

Oikawa scrunched his nose and leaned close again, opening his mouth to try and grasp Iwaizumis own, but he was pushed away again.

“Oikawa. I said no.”  
“Why?!”

Iwaizumi gulped and looked away, taking another slow drag from his cigarette.  
“Because you’re drunk.”

“So _what_?! Even more of a reason.” Oikawa’s cigarette was now consisting of merely the butt of it and churned smoke, ashes falling aimlessly to the ground. 

When he leaned in again for a third time, his cigarette fell through his fingers.  
Iwaizumi pushed him back again, the stern expression melting into something Oikawa hated to see directed at him; he knew this look far too well and he couldn’t stand it, not from Iwaizumi, not from _anyone_.

Iwaizumi’s small smile, his eyes, they were reeking of _pity_. Or so Oikawas mind offered. He had this look directed to him far too much last year. Far too much pity seeped through the words of his doctors when they talked about the extent of his volleyball injuries, from his trainer when he said he should take it easy, from his mom when they talked about alternative career options; the only one that had kept his composure at that time, the only person that looked him straight in the eye at his worst, was Iwaizumi.

And now Iwaizumis’ face was strewn into the one expression he never wanted to see.  
“I’m sorry, Oikawa. But no. Not tonight. Not again.”

“WHY!” he was yelling, but he didn’t care; it’s not as if anyone would hear him over the blast of music through the speakers, through the shut doors.

“We’ve had sex so many times already, and now you don’t even want to kiss me?! Is that how it is?! Or did you suddenly decide that you’re just not into men? _What is it? Why?_ ” 

Iwaizumi shook his head, not bringing himself to face Oikawa in the eye.  
“It’s not-I-I’m sorry. I can’t do this.” he trashed his cigarette in the ashtray standing on the railing and turned around, swiftly opening the door and shutting it again, moving his way through the crowd.

Oikawa looked to the floor where his cigarette was now laying, a small burst of fire still oozing out of it.  
It was almost as if it was mocking him, Tooru thought, and stomped it with his foot.

_How pitiful._  
_How truly, disgustingly, horribly pitiful._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm so sorry  
>  This is more like a Pt.2 of the previous chapter, since they were originally one chapter. Feel free to re-read the previous chapter, though I'm uploading them basically with a few hours difference, since i just had to edit this one, lol.
> 
> Also, a Finnish friend of mine offered me this thing that's apparently liquorice-vodka? It's black liquid and sweet and tastes like drinks should taste. So that's what the trios' pity shots consists of. If anyone knows the name of the drink, feel free to shoot me the name in the comments section-I'm far too shy to ask my friend for the name of it, lol.
> 
> BTW-if you're thinking that 'Awe, at least things are getting good for Kuroo and Kenma!"....I'm so, so, so sorry. But things aren't over just yet, for any couple.
> 
> Stay tuned for the next chapter >:)


	8. Where did the party go?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of sensual dancing, groping, making out, drinking, and pain. Lots and lots of pain. :)))

***************************

“Oikawa! Bokuto! Nice to see you guys!” Yaku yelled over the music when he opened the door to let his friends in. He practically squealed when he saw Kuroo, jumping up and taking him in for a hug, obviously more tipsy than he let on.

“Captain! It’s been _ages_!” he said and squeezed tighter. Kuroo laughed but nodded, ruffling Yakus’ hair before letting go.

“Ah! And is that-Akaashi, wasn’t it?” Akaashi nodded and smiled, “and-KENMA! Look at you!” Yaku grinned, bringing his taller friend close and giving him a very quick hug, knowing even in his drunken state that Kenma didn’t fare well with physical contact.

“Anyway, glad to have you guys here, drinks are in the kitchen, party’s _everywhere_. Have fun and get drunk!" 

Kuroo thanked him and headed closer to the inside main area of the party, the living room, followed by his friends.

All three of the men were worse for wear. Bokuto was clearly completely, utterly _plastered_ already, having one too many of before-mentioned pity shots. Kuroo, though tipsy, was still a ball of stress, trying his absolute best to hide it under his cheerful facade, doing his best to not show to Kenma what him in a skirt and wavy hair did to his nervous system. And Tooru…well, when his two friends saw the look on his face, they didn’t even dare ask what was wrong, knowing that the last thing he’d want to do would be to explain to his two wasted friends the reason behind his clenched teeth and trembling fists. 

Only Kenma took note of the taller mans’ expression, and gently, quietly, wrapped his hand around Toorus’ clenched fist, as much as he could, and gave him a squeeze, trying to convey to him that _everything will be alright. I’m here if you want to talk._.  
Tooru seemed to appreciate the gesture and let his fist loosen, silently reciprocating the squeeze, but said nothing, not trusting himself to talk, because talking meant explaining, and explaining meant admitting, and Tooru wasn’t ready for it. He wasn’t ready to admit it, to acknowledge what the feeling pooled in his stomach was, what the reason behind his constricting neck could be.

“Ok boys. What do you want to do?” Kuroo grinned, turning to look at his friends, hands on his hips.

“Dance/Shots!” Koutarou and Tooru said at the same time, Koutarou yelling ‘Dance’ and jumping up and down erratically, whilst Tooru mumbled 'shots', gaze turned away from his friends.

Kuroo sighed. “Kenma, Akaashi? Opinions?”

Kenma and Akaashi looked at eachother, shrugging.  
“Dancing sounds good right now” Akaashi offered. After a few more drinks at Toorus’ place, he felt loosened up, enough to find himself tapping his foot to the beat.  
“I don’t really care.” Kenma just shrugged again, “Whatever you guys want.”

Kuroo hummed. “Ok. Bo! Akaashi! You guys can go ahead and go dance. Akashi, please don’t let that guy near any more alcohol. Last time I let him drink too much he ended up naked and barfing in the bathroom. Kenma, come with me-someone needs to drink with this loser” he said and nudged Tooru, giving him a smile he hoped conveyed that he was only teasing, but worried.

Kenma nodded and followed suit, after giving Akaashi a long glance that the other men couldn’t decipher, but Akaashi knew. He knew exactly what that gaze was saying.

_Now’s your chance, Keiji. Don’t let it slip away._

***********************************  


 

He lost him.  
He didn’t even know how-one minute he was next to him, the next he turned back and found the spot beside him empty. He looked around the sea of people, looked for an excessively loud man with silver hair, but no-one had seen him, or heard him.

Akaashi was getting desperate. He promised Kuroo that he’d look out for Bokuto throughout the party, and he didn’t plan on breaking his word.

He covered the entire bottom floor, before gathering up the courage to move to the top floor, mentally apologising to Yaku and his roomates’ for invading their privacy.

Most doors on the top floor were locked, but the last one at the end of the hallway wasn’t, the door being slightly ajar. Figuring that’s the last place he hasn’t looked at inside the house, Akaashi headed there and knocked, before opening the door fully when he got no response.

_Ah, there he is._  
Of course the idiot would be here. Bokuto was grinning, laying on what Akaashi assumed must be Yakus’ bed, scrolling and laughing at something on his phone.

He turned his head to him, grin still plastered on his face.  
“Akaashi! Come here. You gotta see this owl video. Look at it’s little hooting Akaashi. _Look at it._ ” He patted the space next to him on the bed, and Keiji sighed in defeat, closing the door behind him and flopping down to the bed, too exhausted to argue.

Bokuto shifted and lay on his stomach, elbows propping him up so he’d show the video to Akaashi.  
_Cute_ , he thought when he took note of the gleam in Koutarous’ eyes, the way his mouth fell into an easy smile when he looked at the screen.  
Bokuto turned his eyes to meet Akaashis’ and his gaze softened.

“Hey.” he mumbled.  
Akaashi smiled. “Hey.”

“You didn’t talk to me about it you know.”  
Akaashi raised an eyebrow.

“Tooru said I’m throwing myself to your mercy. By not addressing the subject first. But I don’t think I’m doing that. I’m just giving you the space you need to talk about it. Though I don’t really want you to talk about it. Or have to talk about it. Or talk about anything really. I’d much rather just be kissing you right now.”  
His words came out so jumbled, Akaashi didn’t know which to address first, which one to process.  
So he did what he did best.  
He feigned ignorance.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. You’re drunk.”  
Bokuto grinned, twisting himself so he’d be laying on his side, allowing a perfect view of Akaashi who was also laying on his side, close enough to Bokuto to feel his breath on his face. 

“Hell yeah I am!” he laughed.

When his giggle died out, all he did was look at Akaashi, eyes soft, lost, wondering. He was asking a million questions with one gaze, and Akaashi couldn’t bear to see them. He didn’t want to give any answers, not right now. 

Bokuto propped himself back up, moving his body over Akaashi. When Keiji didn’t protest at the sudden movement, he leaned closer, one elbow over by Akaashi’s head, keeping him in place.

Their faces were close enough to drown Akaashi in an ocean of endless gold. His brain was screaming, begging him to move away, but his body ignored the protest, his hand moving involuntarily to touch Bokuto’s jaw, moving up to his cheek, fluttering over his eye and forehead, which earned him a giggle from the mans’ mouth.

One minute he was laughing, and the next he was covering Akaashis’ lips with his own, moving his mouth over Akaashis’ with a fevering need, impatience written in his eager licking and biting. Akaashi complied, lightly opening his mouth and returning the kiss feverishly, feeling like a piece of him he didn’t know was missing was returning back to his body, warming his insides.

He didn’t protest when Bokuto sloppily bit on his bottom lip, the question evident. He groaned when Bokutos’ tongue made its’ way into his mouth, moving his with an equal hunger, need. He didn’t protest when Bokutos’ hand, the one that wasn’t supporting his weight over Akaashi, moved down and under Akaashis’ shirt, running his fingers through the hollows of his ribs, over the clenched muscles of his stomach, his hips. He didn’t protest when said hand gripped his hips, tilting him to deepen the kiss.

But then said hand roamed lower, fiddling with the button of Akaashi’s pants.  
He panted, shoving his hand away and pushing Bokutos’ chest so he’d let go, sitting up immediately when he did.

“Dude! What the hell?!” Bokuto sat up too, eyebrows raised at Akaashi.

Akaashi felt trapped. His head was spinning, his breath hitched; he could feel the taste on his lips, licking them to find they felt like alcohol.

He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to reduce his feelings, the rapid drumming of his heart, the emotions of the past 3 years and 3 months; into a drunk make out session. He couldn’t do that, not to himself, not to Bokuto.

Bokuto pursed his lips, tried to lean back close to Akaashi, but he immediately got up, letting Bokuto fall flat to the mattress.

“Seriously?” he gaped.  
Akaashi leaned on the wall, a hand clenches to his chest.  
“I-I can’t, Bokuto.” his voice was barely above a whisper.

“ _Why?!_ I thought-you came here to talk, you _said_ you wanted to talk but you did nothing, all you did was glance at me every now and then, and now this happened and you’re saying you can’t? You can’t do _what_ Akaashi?!” 

Akaashi couldn’t breathe. He took deep breaths but nothing came in, it felt like his lungs turned to water, like his body had given up on him.

“I can’t…I can’t just reduce all this into a one night thing. Do _this_ before we talk, figure out what the fuck is going on. Why you thought it was OK to just confess and abandon me, change your phone number and block me on Facebook. You didn’t let me get a say in this Bokuto.”

He looked up, not being able to control the lump in his throat anymore, the tears in his eyes.  
“You confessed, but you made it obvious you didn’t want a relationship. Didn’t care about what I thought, what _I_ felt. So what do _you_ want from me Koutarou?” 

He left the room before Bokuto do so much as breathe, the pain in his chest too overbearing to handle.

Akaashi was many things. He was sad, angry, confused. But above all, he was tired.  
So, so tired.

 

************************************

“One more!”  
“One more for the Grand King!” Kuroo laughed, taking another drink in hand, a lit cigarette in the other.

He offered the drink to Tooru, who accepted the colourful liquid without question, and prepared another one to give to Kenma, who just shook his head. He already regretted the amount of alcohol he ingested before, feeling the side effects in his stomach already.

Kuroo shrugged and took a sip from the drink himself, after clinking his cup with the one Tooru was holding.

Kenma didn't know what to do. Kuroo was already drunk enough, but in his ‘heroic’ attempt to cheer his best friend up, kept him company with drinking, enough for Kenma to wonder how much of this night he’d remember the next morning. 

Tooru on the other hand, was a pure complete mess, all tears and laughter and drinking. The usual cool exterior he insisted on holding, all the masks and layers he usually hid behind were melted away, dispersed like salt in water. All that was left was this; a very drunk, messed up boy.

“Oh? Look at what the cat brought in.”

Kuroo turned to face the voice behind him and snickered.  
“A scornful, not drunk enough baby crow, that’s what” he laughed, nodding his head in greeting to Tsukishimas’ direction.

“I get why Suga and Daichi are here. Hell, I get why Hinata and Kageyama are here. But how the everlasting fuck did _you_ end up here, pretty boy?” Kuroo moved closer to Tsukishima, secretly happy that the boy didn’t have yet another growth sprout in his senior year of highschool, so Kuroo was still taller than him. “and where is your lovely loyal sidekick today?”

Tsukishima clicked his tongue, his gaze meeting Kuroos’ in a glare.  
“No where near the likes of you, that’s where. And he’s not my _sidekick_ ” he hissed the words out like they were venom, “You wouldn’t ever call Kozume that, would you?” he nodded in Kenmas’ direction, an action that made the smaller boys’ shoulders tense. He always hated attention, but more than that, he hated being addressed by Tsukishima. Ever since he first met him, he felt something was…off with him. He looked too much like the boys in the park, the kids that picked his flaws apart and bullied him back then.

Kenma didn’t like Tsukishima. And he didn’t like the close proximity of Kuroo with him.  
“Wow. Good to see you too Kei” Kuroo grinned, the previous glare exchanged for a sloppy drunken smile. He moved the boy closer to him and pat his back as a greeting, before pulling back and holding him by the shoulders.

“Kei. Come drink with us! We’re celebrating Toorus’ slip on his dignity and self-remorse!” he cheered.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes.  
“Yeah. How about no?”

Kuroo was about to answer, but Tsukishima averted his attention from him, swiftly moving his hands off of his shoulders to move closer to Tooru, who was simply watching the whole ordeal behind them, grinning and snickering at the interaction.

“Oikawa. My brother’s looking for you. Says he wants to rant about this new biochemistry professor or whatever.”

“Oh my GOD, finally! Someone that understands what a cock-house that guy is! JUST BECAUSE HE HAS A CUTE SMILE DOESN’T MEAN HIS LECTURES DON’T SUCK DICK!” he was practically yelling into Tsukishimas’ ear, but the boy barely even flinched. He looked at eye level to Tooru and pointed to the kitchen’s exit with his thumb.

“He’s smoking outside, probably. Better go find him.”  
“Yessir!” Tooru grinned and grabbed his drink from the kitchen counter, spilling some in the process, before swiftly moving his way out of the kitchen and back into the party.

Kuroo turned his attention back to Tsukishima, about to make what he thought to be the sassiest remark of all times about his new glasses, but stopped midway when Kenma tugged at his sleeve, pulling him down to his eye level.

“Kuroo. Lev. He’s here.”

Kuroo turned his gaze to where Kenma was looking, through the exit of the kitchen and into the middle of the living room, where a tall man with gray hair was grinning and talking with some people.

“Oh yeah! Game on!” Kuroo shrieked and pulled Kenma by the hand and out of the kitchen, so that Lev would take notice of them.

Kenma tried tugging himself free, ask Kuroo what he was doing, but all his efforts were drowned out by the sound of the music.

Kuroo stopped abruptly and pulled Kenmas’ body close to his, Kenmas’ head bumping into Kuroos’ chest.

“Kenma. Dance with me!”  
Before he could protest, Kuroo was swaying both of them to the beat, Kenmas’ smaller body moving by reflex, feeling his skirt fluttering by the sudden movements.

Kuroos’ whole being at this point was… _sensual_. It was the only word that could come into Kenmas’ mind, when his body was touching Kuroos’, when Kuroos’ hands were reaching and meeting at the tip of his spine, keeping him in place, his face looking down at Kenma with half-lidded eyes, a small crooked smile on his lips. He could feel the warmth radiating from Kuroos’ body, welcoming and surrounding him, the scent of cigarettes, as much as Kenma hated them, smelling so like Kuroo, so much like _home_.

“Good, he’s looking this way” Kuroo whispered into his ear, and Kenma tried to control the shiver Kuroos’ breath deducted from him.

Of course. As nice as this felt, he couldn’t let himself get carried away. After all, it was just play pretend.

Kuroos’ hands dipped lower down Kenmas’ back, reaching right above his ass, threatening to pull his skirt up at any wrong move. 

Kenma could feel his ears redden, hoped the heat coursing through his body wasn’t evident to Kuroo. However, he seemed to pay no mind to it, continuing to move with Kenma, the only indication of recognising the discomfort of his best friend being the grin on his face becoming even bigger.

Kenma looked to the side, registering the look of shock on Lev’s face, whose gaze met his. He faltered over a forced grin and looked away, moving away from the dancing pair to talk to someone that tapped his shoulder (or well tried to. What kind of genes a person needed to reach a height like Levs’ was beyond Kenma.)

Good. The plan worked.  
As much as his body begged him not to, he tugged himself away form Kuroo, forcing his hands on Kuroos’ chest and freeing himself from the touch.

Kuroo looked at him like a kid when you take their favourite toy away.  
“What was that for?”

Kenma nodded at Lev’s vicinity. “He left. We can stop now.” his gaze shifted uncomfortably, knowing that if he looked Kuroo in the eye now, he’d see everything, all the horrible disgusting feelings pooling in Kenmas’ heart.

“Oh. ‘Kay.” he shrugged, uncomfortably moving his hand to the back of his neck and looking away.  
“I’ll just go and..see how Tooru’s doing. Or smoke. Or…”

Kenma nodded, both men looking away from each other. “Okay. I’ll find Hinata.”

Kuroo nodded back, and they both went to their different ways.  
_See,_ , the voice at the back of his head was grinning with malice, _it’s all for show. He’d never touch you like this otherwise. What did you think? That you’re worthy of such gestures? Fool._.  
Indeed, he thought and shook his head, a fool indeed.

***********************************  
Kuroo could feel his feet wobbling, and he knew it wasn’t _just_ because of the alcohol.  
Okay, the main reason may have been that. But the lingering feeling of Kenmas’ body flush on his was also paying a significant toll on his body.

He was craving that touch for so long, his body was _yearning_ with need for a touch like that, but as soon as it came it left, and Kuroo wasn’t sure if he perhaps dreamed the whole incident from the begining.

_No, no. If it was a dream, it wouldn’t stop at that. That’d be a nightmare, not a dream._ , he convinced himself.

When he saw the discomfort on Kenmas’ face though, the blush creeping on his cheeks despite him doing his utter best to hide it…he couldn’t help it. He had to leave, right then and there, before he did something he’d regret the next morning.

However, he also needed an excuse to leave to settle something his drunk brain found of utmost importance.  
He had to confront Lev, make him back off from Kenma for good.

Finding him wasn't hard-a 194cm Russian giant wasn’t exactly camouflaged in a large crowd. The moment he found him, he tugged his shoulder and turned him around to face Kuroo, who just mouthed the words ‘Out. Now.’ at him, and turned back, heading outside the house. He didn’t turn to check if Lev was following him-he knew that he’d be too scared to disobey Kuroo, despite him not being his captain or senpai anymore.

“Um, K-Kuroo! I mean, Kuroo-senpai! I-how does this work now…honorinifics are so hard.” he mumbled when they left the house, standing outside where the music was significantly quieter, the louder sound being the ringing in Kuroos’ ears.

“Drop the act. You know what we’re out here for.”

Lev gulped.  
“What’s the deal with you and Kenma.”

Lev’s mouth gaped like a fish.  
“I-he-I didn’t know he was this bothered, I swear! Or you, for that matter. I apologised!” he was ranting. Kuroo sighed, and put a hand in his pocket. _Damn. I lost my cigarettes._.

“Do you like him?”  
“Huh.” Lev cocked his head, a nervous smile on his face.

“I asked. Do you like him? Do you want to date him, do stuff with him? Because that’s not going to happen, not in this lifetime.”

Lev’s eyes widened.  
“I-“

“I mean it”, he took a step forward, and despite being shorter than the younger kid, he knew he was intimidating enough when Lev took a step back, arms raising in surprise. “Kenma’s _mine_. _I’m_ the one he allows to touch him, and _no one_ else. Just so we’re clear. He’s not going to date you, or do whatever the hell you want from him.”

“K-Kuroo-senpai! I understand the sentiment but you’re confusing something!”  
Kuroo raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue, and that was enough intimidation for Lev.  
“I’m not interested in Kenma! Not at all, not romantically!”

Kuroo stopped in his tracks. What..?  
“I do find him to be very cute, but he’s like a cat y’know? Cats don’t like me at all. I try to touch them and they leave, and Kenma reminds me of one, so I just…kinda wanna hug him by reflex. Like a cat. I wish I could hug a cat.” he sighed, “But I’m not interested in Kenma. I mean, I am as a friend but…the one I like is…not…him” he pursed his lips and looked away, twiddling his thumbs.

He looked at Kuroo, who was still looking at him with disbelief.  
“The one I like is…Yaku. That’s the reason I accepted his invitation to come today. So I could try and confess to him. But I’m doing an awful job out of it.”

Sober Kuroo would be shocked at this situation. He’d gape, laugh, tease Lev but then pat his back and wish him luck.  
But drunk Kuroo didn’t have the type of brain function to process all that.

“So…Kenma?”  
“Not into him.”  
“At all?”  
“Whatsoever.  
“I-“  
“Ah! Yak's there! I should go. Nice talking to you Kuroo-senpai!” he grinned and rushed back inside the house, leaving Kuroo to ponder with his own thoughts.

“So…I groped his butt for nothing? Kenmas’ going to _murder_ me.”

****************************************

He couldn’t breathe.  
Technically he could, but; the amount of people around him was overwhelming. He needed a break, he needed to go out, to _think_ without feeling his mind vibrate at every twist of noise from the stereo.

Slow steps lead him outside the house and to the front porch steps, stomach churning and mind racing. He needed time, he needed to think, to think, to _think_ -

“Keiji?”

He breathed deep, the comfort in his name being called by this voice temporarily silencing his racing thoughts.  
He felt movement next to him, weight shifting to his side.

Kenma didn’t ask any questions. He just sat next to Keiji, leaned his head on his shoulder. Akaashi appreciated the gesture. He couldn’t talk right now, any word he’d say would come out wrong, bitter, tired.

He sighed into Kenmas’ hair and rested his head atop his, enjoying the fresh scent the boy still had despite being in a crowded room that reeked of drinks cigarettes and heat.

“How are you feeling?” Akaashi asked. He didn’t want to think of his own misfortunes right now, and he knew how tight crowds made his friend feel.

Kenma sighed.  
“I don’t like drinking.” he pouted, and Akaashi couldn’t help but laugh. Despite outer appearances Kenma could be so open, so honest-it was refreshing.

“Did you upset your stomach? You shouldn’t have accepted all those shots Tooru gave you.” He smoothed a hand over Kenmas back, embracing the smaller body close to his.

“You don’t know the face he makes when you refuse to drink with him. It’s like a kicked puppy.”

“And you find it too sad to resist?”  
“No. I just find his whining afterwards too troublesome.”

Akaashi knew Kenma was lying, so he didn’t press the subject. He knew by now that snarky remarks were just kindness in disguise when it came to Kozume.

He let his eyes flutter close, bitter smile finding its way to his face.  
“It was wrong of me to come here Kozume.”

Kenma tugged himself away from the embrace so he could look Keiji in the eye, but laced his fingers with his.  
“No, it wasn’t. Koutarou needed to see you, and you needed to see him. You need to talk. Have your say in that conversation.” he pursed his lips, gaze flickering with an intense light despite it being so dark outside. What time was it anyway?

“I don’t know what to say. It’s been three months already. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe I should too.”  
“Don’t you dare say that again. You don’t mean that.”

Akaashi shook his head and squeezed Kenmas’ hands.  
“Yes. But maybe I should start meaning it.” the look he gave Kenma was so broken, Kenma wanted nothing more than to wipe it off of Akaashis’ face, to hug it better, to slap some sense into both him and Koutarou-how could they not _see_ each other, despite being so close? How could they be so ignorant to the connection they had?

Kenma remained silent, but the shift of Akaashis’ expression made him wonder.  
Keiji’s lips were parted, eyebrows scrunched up as he was squinting at something in the distance.

“Kozume. Is that…Kuroo and Tsukishima?”

*******************************

Kuroo had seen enough. After having a few more drinks with Tooru (that really took their toll on him, he soon found out), he headed back outside, needing to smoke a bit without the constant fear of burning the next person passing by with his cigarette. He moved away from the front porch of the house, coming to lean on the wall a bit further down.

_God. He was drunk._. Even in this state he recognised how bad it was-he could barely see straight, _think_ even. The loud noise from inside felt like a blur in his mind, the only memory he could fondly recall being the touch of his hands on Kenmas’ body, the contact of skin, the intense urge to just duck down and _kiss him_ -

He sighed and with wobbly feet, leaned away from the wall and started to head back inside, when he collided head first with a sturdy figuire.

“What the fu-“ he looked up, but the haze in his mind didn’t let him recognise the face in front of him. All he could see was a blonde head and a pair of intense eyes.

Wait.  
Kenma had blonde hair, didn’t he? Sure they were dyed but they were blonde alright.  
But wasn’t Kenma shorter? Like, way shorter than him?  
_Stupid_ , his brain offered, _people get taller eventually._  
Kuroo seemed satisfied at the thought and grinned.

He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help but reach out for taller-Kenma’s face and stroke his cheek with his knuckles. Even with his growth spurt, he wasn’t taller then Kuroo, which made touching his face easier.

“I need to tell you something.”  
He didn’t dare look at taller-Kenmas’ face, too terrified to not lose his words by looking into his eyes.  
“I…I like you. No, more than that. I’m sorta kinda really in love with you. Shit, it’s been like…” he started counting with his fingers, but lost count somewhere after 4. Or was it 3? “Anyway, ’s been like, many years that I do. You’re so so like, _cute_ and sweet even when you’re grumpy or snarky-actually i sorta _like it_ when you’re sweet and snarky, do that more please, but yeah, so…yeah. By the way, when did you get so tall?” he pondered. 

He squinted so he could get a better look at Kenmas’ face-wait, maybe he _did_ get taller but, did he also cut his hair?

“Oh _wow_. Look at how the mighty fall. What’s wrong _Tetsu_? Intimidated by my height?”

No. No way. Kenma could grow taller. He could cut his hair and dye it blonde, but never would his voice reek with venom, nor would he ever smell like smoke and look so-so angry. Or wear glasses.  
This wasn’t Kenma.  
As if his body suddenly metabolised all the alcohol in his body, the fog cleared from his eyes, and he could see the man standing in front of him clearly now.  
“Tsukishima!” he exclaimed, jaw slack with shock.

“Oh boy. That was _precious_. I wish I’d videotaped it. Watch it when I need a cheer-up. Post it on Youtube as a parody video. ‘Weird cat confesses undying love’ or something” he grinned, but his smile spelled menance.

The next thing his drugged brain noticed was the ball of _rage_ standing next to Tsukishima. Oh. Oh shit.

Yamaguchi was _red_ , his whole being trembling with anger.

“You..you..stay away from Tsukki! He’s MINE!” he yelled and pushed Kuroo, who promptly fell flat on his butt, despite the little strength that went into the push.

Yamaguchi actually seemed shocked for a moment, before the anger returned to his face.  
“I don’t care what you say, I’ve liked him longer and he’s dating _me_ , not you!” he groaned. 

Kei laughed. Seeing his boyfriend burst with jealousy was a beautiful sight, but he knew it was completely uncecesary-the drunk idiot wasn’t confessing to him. He thought he was confessing to Kenma.

He was about to explain just that to Yamaguchi, but stopped when he noticed the two men behind Kuroo.

Kenma was standing there, his eyes wide, lips parted and quivering. He covered his hands inside his sweater, clenching so tight his knuckles must’ve turned white from the pressure.  
Next to him stood Akaashi, expression equally shocked, arms raised in mid-air as if to protect Kenma from falling.

The last thing Tsukishima noticed was the glistening in Kenmas’ eyes, before both boys turned away, Kenma first, and headed to the opposite direction from the party, across the street and down the road.

He stood in awe, wondering _how_ he managed to get involved once again in others’ idiotic problems.

“Kuroo Tetsurou”, he mumbled, looking down at the cleary dazed man, “What have you done this time?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible, horrible person, and i've written my very first make out scene oh wow :))))
> 
> I was studying metabolism of alcohol today...RIP to Kuroo, Bokuto, and Toorus' livers and circulation. You did your best.  
> Also, probably an unpopular opinion but-I really really really don't like the Tsukishima/Kuroo ship. I can definitely see why it's a thing but every time I think about it a picture of a sad Kenma pops in my head and just. No. ;-; 
> 
> As I mentioned before, this is the last chapter for the next few days-I'll be writing a bit more slowly, since I really need to try my best at my exam next week. But! Fear not! I will post at least 1-2 chapter this week, and I've got a few ideas lined up for a future one. Stay tuned. ;)
> 
> BTW-If you're worried about the lack of Tooru in this chapter...worry not. He's most definitely, absolutely not forgotten :)


	9. I want to sleep next to you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But that's all I wanna do right now~  
> A bit of a closure to the night.  
> They say darkness makes things seem worse than they are, don't they? :)

***********************

“Yo Yaku! Did you see Akaashi anywhere?”

Yaku was far too gone to reply, a giggling mess sitting on Lev’s lap in the living room, Bokuto hovering over them like a wild owl.

“Nope! Who’s that?”  
Bokuto groaned.  
“Nevermind. Don’t eyefuck this much with Lev in public, please.” He warned the duo, turning away and walking to the next person he could grab and ask if they saw his-no wait, he’s not his, if they saw Akaashi anyway.

To his luck, the next person he bumped into was Kuroo.  
“Bro!”  
“Brooo. Bro. You won’t believe what just-I-Fuck Kouatrou, i fucked up real bad this time. Like, so bad.”

His friend was a weeping mess of limbs, wobbling on his feet and leaning on Koutarou for help.  
“I think they left.”

Bokuto raised an eyebrow. “ _Who_ left?”  
“They did man. The pretty duo. Kenma and Akaashi.”

Bokuto nearly dropped Kuroo.  
“The fuck Kuroo? Where did they go?!”

Kuroo shrugged.  
“Dude. I confessed.”

“Holy shit.”  
“Ye. But the thing is…I sorta confessed to Kei.”  
“Kei-you- **you confessed to Tsukishima?!**.” Bokuto tried to ignore the stares his shout elicited, moving himself and his best friend outside the party and across the street from the house.

“I don’t know man, it just happened all of a sudden and I-I danced with Kenma and fuck you should’ve seen him man and then it just sort of…”  
Bokuto sighed.  
“I made out with Akaashi.”  
“Dude.”  
“I know.”  
“Holy shit.”  
“I know.”  
“So?”  
“So he freaked out, got pissed off with me-as expected, and left. And I’ve been looking for him ever since. I think he chased the alcohol straight outta my body.”  
“Bro. Ouch.” Kuroo winced.  
“I know.”  
“We’re both fucked aren’t we.”  
“Yeah.”  
“Hopefully Tooru’s having a better night than us. Where is he anyway?”  
Bokuto shook his head.  
“Somewhere better, hopefully.”

**********************  
Tooru reached the point of drunk where he could practically see time slow down.  
All he felt, all he saw were flashes of images. Did he take something by accident? Did someone offer him something to smoke? He couldn’t remember.

But he could see images, slow and painful, and distant voices.  
He saw the smile, the pity in Iwaizumis’ eyes.  
The feel of his best friend, the touch of the man he _loved_ , that very first night it happened-they weren’t drunk, but they blamed the event on the alcohol.  
But Oikawa knew it wasn’t that. There’s no way he could let the sweet poison erase the memory of Iwaizumi-ever so gently touching him, asking for permission despite the hunger in his eyes. The feel of lips on his neck, of the warmth enveloping his whole being. There’s no way he’d let alcohol dull that feeling.

Oikawa may have been drunk, but not that night. Not when he was with Iwaizumi.

“Oikawa! Get up, Tooru!”  
He laughed. He must’ve smoked something for sure. He was hearing his voice now. How much longer would Iwaizumi Hajime haunt him, taunt his feelings?  
“Can you walk? Shit why am I asking, you can’t walk.”

He sighed. The last thing he remembered before passing out was the feeling of being lifted, of having his chest touch something warm, comforting.  
For some reason, he felt like he was home.

***************************

“Alright, I texted them. Ah-don’t worry, I just said you upset your stomach and we went home early so you could get some rest.” Akaashi offered when he saw Kenma’s expression turn to shock. Of course he wouldn’t tell them they went back because Kenma couldn’t stop crying.

“I’ll go make us some tea. It’ll help. Meanwhile you should go get changed.”  
Akaashi smiled at him, and Kenma tried to reciprocate the sentiment, but he couldn’t, no matter how grateful he was for his friends’ help.

Begrudgingly, he got off the couch and went into Kuroos’ bedroom to find something to change into. Despite how much being surrounded by Kuroos’ things, by his scent, hurt.

He should’ve known. It was so _obvious_ , he must’ve been trying to ignore it, and managed to do so.  
The awkwardness between them,  
the close proximity of him and Tsukishima,  
calling him _’Pretty Boy’_. 

His mind brought back Hinata’s words.  
_”What if he eventually finds a girlfriend or boyfriend and starts dating them? What if you lose your chance, and have to forever wonder what would’ve changed if you told him?”_  
He laughed.  
“I already did”, he whispered. 

**********************************  
Kuroo didn’t know he could physically run this fast, but in a matter of an hour, involving a metro, tram and 20-minute walk back, he and Bokuto reached home, practically panting from the run they did to come back as soon as possible.

“Dude. It’s true. Exercise really does un-drunken you!”  
“I don’t think un-drunken is a word…”  
Bokuto huffed. “It is now.”

Kuroo hated to agree, but Bokuto was right. The adrenaline rushing through his body was really clearing up his mind. Which meant he could clearly feel how much his feet ached from the jog.

He threw the door open when he found out it was unlocked, not even bothering to leave his shoes at the entrance.

Inside, he found Akaashi curled up on the couch, a tea in his hands and his computer on his lap, already changed into a pair of sweats and plain shirt.  
“Ah-hi. Sorry that we left early.” he looked up at Kuroo, Bokuto still behind him trying to remove his shoes.

“Kenma-“  
“Kenma went to your room to change clothes-he must’ve fallen asleep.” he whispered, not wanting to rouse Kenma; the boy had been through too much for a night. “It’s lucky you remembered to give him your spare keys. He really didn’t feel well.” 

Kuroo could feel that there was something more hidden behind Akaashis’ words, but he couldn’t deal with that right now. All he wanted was to find Kenma.  
Tsukishima all but yelled at him, telling him to run after Kenma, who from what Kuroos’ mind pieced together from Kei’s mumbled words, left the party.  
And so he did. He run as fast as he could back home.

Kuroo thanked Akaashi and quietly stepped his way to his bedroom, only taking of his shoes before entering.

What he found was…well.  
Apparently Kenma must’ve fallen asleep mid-changing. He was curled up in Kuroos’ bed, his skirt forgotten on the floor, and his sweater exchanged for what Kuroo recognised to be _his_ shirt. The thigh-high socks were still intact on his feet, evident that the boy was far too tired to take them off.

With that sight, Kuroo couldn’t help it. He made his way to the bed and sat quietly, trying his best not to wake up Kenma, content when he saw no response from the sleeping boy other than a little scrunch of his nose, curling his knees even closer to his chest.

He smiled at the sight. This was home. This was what an average weekend with him and Kenma looked like, sometimes going out with Bo and Tooru, other times staying in and marathoning TV shows-then falling asleep, usually with Kenma hidden in Kuroos’ chest, breathing deeply and giving Kuroo the comfort he needed to fall into a sweet sleep.

“I love you.”  
It was so quiet, barely a whisper. But he needed to say it, even at that, even knowing Kenma couldn’t hear.

He gently pushed tuffs of Kenmas’ hair away from his face, knowing they’d bother the sleeping boy. But the movement seemed to rouse Kenma.

“Kuroo?” He whispered, slowly stretching his legs and turning himself on his back, so he could face his friend.

“Hey. Sorry, I woke you up.” he whispered around a smile.  
“It’s okay.”

Kuroo huffed a laugh, leaning closer to Kenma, laying on his side.

“Are you…okay?”

Kuroo couldn’t see much in the darkness of the room, only light coming in from the very slightly ajar door and the open window behind the bed. But he could see the deep breaths Kenma was taking, his ribcage expanding and lowering. He wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at the ceiling, at the void, but not at Kuroo. Why..?

“Yeah. Yeah, the walk home really helped with the uh, tipsyness. Won’t help with tomorrow’s hangover though.”

He expected Kenma to make a snarky comment at the word ‘tipsiness’, but he just hummed, eyes still fixated on the ceiling.

Kuroo pursed his lips and shifter closer to Kenma.  
“I didn’t mean that, Kuroo.”

Kuroo was at loss of words. Why wouldn’t he _look_ at him?  
“Then I don’t know what you meant.”

Kenma did turn his head at that, but his eyes avoided Kuroos’ face, looking down instead.  
He felt the anger and discomfort pulling at his sanity.

“It’s okay.” he whispered and shifted his head again.  
Again, words that held meaning deeper than what Kuroo could grasp. What was going on tonight!

“No, it’s not. Kenma, talk to me. _Look_ at me. Please.” he propped himself up and over Kenma, blocking his view to the ceiling with his face.

He never saw Kenma’s expression so…blank.

“Kenma. Please.”

Kenma shifted his gaze, but his body remained rigid under Kuroo.  
He couldn’t stand this. 

He grasped at Kenma’s jaw with his hand, gently so he could give him the chance to turn his head away if he wanted. He didn’t.  
With a short inhale, he moved his lips to meet Kenmas’. He felt the soft tug of warmth and the gasp that parted Kenma’s lips, and took it as an invitation, bringing Kenma’s bottom lip in-between his, enveloped in the warmth of soft plump lips meeting his after so long, after _years_ of craving to find out what they’d taste like, how they’d feel.

He pulled back a minute after, wishing to all the gods of the universe that he didn’t just commit the biggest mistake in his life.

The look in Kenma’s face told him he did.  
His eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears. With the brightness of the city lights and passing cars outside, he caught glimpses of the redness under Kenma’s eyes, the swollen lips he had just claimed for his own just a minute ago quivering and clenching between his teeth.

Kuroo tried to speak, but Kenma simply pushed him away, with enough force to get his point across but not enough to hurt him.  
Kenma got up from the bed, but stopped, standing with his back to Kuroo.

“Try and sleep, Kuro. Things’ll be better in the morning. They always are.”  
Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s wrist with a shaky hand.  
“That’s what I used to tell you when we were kids”, he breathed.

A heavy silence befell them, before Kenma shook his hand free from his grasp, moving to exit the room.  
“Go to sleep Kuroo.” was the last thing he said before shutting the door behind him.

 _But,_ , Kuroo thought, _how can I ever sleep if it’s not beside you?_

 

*************************  
Bokuto tried to talk to Akaashi. He shifted uncomfortably on the couch, tried to open his mouth but closed it shut again.  
Akaashi was completely ignoring him in favour of his computer and his tea, silently scrolling and sometimes typing.

“Akaashi-“  
“No.”  
He didn’t even look up from his screen.  
“I-“  
“No, Bokuto.” he did look up now, eyes stern but soft. “Not tonight.”  
Bokuto scrunched his eyebrows.  
“Not tonight, not like this. Go to sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow. This couch opens up into a bed right? I’d…rather sleep here than…”  
Bokuto didn’t need to hear more. _Than in my room._ he finished the sentence in his mind.

He got up, a defeated slump in his step, in his shoulders.  
He was opening the door to his room when he heard Akaashi calling him.  
“Bokuto.”  
He turned around.  
“I wish things were different.” he offered, a sad quiver playing on his lips.  
Bokuto sighed.  
“Me too.”

****************************

A while after Bokuto returned to his room, Akaashi opened up the couch, throwing a blanket over his shoulders and curling up inside it, plucking in his headphones to listen to some music and scroll through posts until he could actually calm his nerves down enough to sleep. 

When he felt a presence standing next to the couch, he couldn’t help but yelp, twisting his body around to find Kenma, clenching a hand in his- _or was it Kuroo’s?_ shirt.

Akaashi knew better than to ask question. He scooted over, letting Kenma squiggle under the covers. He turned off his computer and set it aside, giving more space for Kenma, who moved close to him and covered his head in Akaashi’s chest. He smiled at the trusting gesture and put his hand around Kenma’s small waist, tugging him close.

None of them spoke for a while, finding comfort in the silence.  
“He kissed me.”  
Akaashi turned his face to look at Kenma, his voice coming out muffled by Akaashi’s shirt.  
“He’s drunk and got rejected by Tsukishima and he kissed me.” he whispered, the complaint clear in his voice.

Akaashi didn’t know what to make of this. On the one hand he was certain Kuroo was in love with Kenma, he knew it from the very first much they had together, from the glances Kuroo sent Kenma’s way, from the complete trust he had in him. When they became even closer, he noticed the small gestures. Shielding Kenma with his body when he felt uncomfortable, the fleeting touches of their hands, the unspoken communication.  
But then there was the incident tonight. On the one hand it was evident that Kuroo was drunk. Maybe he wouldn’t even remember the whole ordeal the next morning. But on the other hand, he did seem particaluraily close with Karasunos’ middle blocker. So Akaashi was at loss as to what to tell his friend.

He sighed in his hair.  
“He deserves to be happy. Tsukishima doesn’t know what he’s missing.”  
Akaashi moved back and flicked Kenma’s forehead, making the smaller boy cringe.

“You know when Kuroo’s truly happy? It’s when he’s with _you._ Honestly, I’ve never seen a person’s smile light up so much when they’re with another person. You deserve _each other_ Kozume.”

Kenma made a choked sound and hid his face back into the crook of Akaashi’s neck, but then peeked up at him a few moments later, eyes hesitant but waiting, demanding.

“We kissed. I pushed him away because he tried to push things too far.”  
Kenma remained quiet.  
“He removed himself from my life completely for three months. Three years we were glued to the hip and then he confessed and left. He wouldn’t answer my messages, he blocked my calls, changed his number, deleted me from social media. It’s as if Bokuto Koutarou ceased to exist, like I dreamed up the whole ordeal. A kiss doesn’t patch that up.”

Kenma hummed a noise of approval, but other than that kept quiet, letting Akaashi continue, his voice reaching a whisper-yelling tone.

“I want to make things work-between me and him, _us_. But I don’t know if I can. If he’s that feeble, that easy to cut me out from his life, then I don’t know. I can’t bear through that a second time. I can’t be the only one fighting.”

His chest was heavy, but lighter after the rant. He looked down at Kozume, who looked up at him and smiled.

“Things will be better tomorrow”, he whispered.  
“Tomorrow.”, Akaashi mimicked.  
Kenma reached up, stretching his legs to reach Akaashi’s forehead and give it a chaste kiss, before settling back into his chest.

“Goodnight Keiji.”  
He smiled, feeling the tug of lips being completely genuine for once today.  
“Goodnight Kozume.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day AND actually was productive and finished my studying and to-do list?! Guys what is going on.  
> Anyway lol, it's pretty late and I didn't really proofread this but I felt I needed some closure to the previous chapter so here you have it; the end of the night, filled with more feels and angst and pain because why not ;u;
> 
> As always, hope you like it!  
> BTW-In case you'd like to drop a comment or say hi or something, feel free to do so on my tumblr too: http://dontmindme-imafangirl.tumblr.com  
> :D
> 
> Once again I just really really want to thank you guys for your support on this fic-it means a lot. I never started writing expecting people would enjoy it that much, and every like and comment makes me so so happy. :)


	10. Painkillers and resolutions.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after's always hard.

****************************

TEXT FROM: Cat-fucker *cat emoji*  
>>Please tell me you still got that migraine medication. I need. now.

Bokuto groaned at the brightness of his screen before replying.

>>Didn’t Tooru say not to take those? Something ‘bout iburophen and stomachs or whatever.

His phone vibrated immediatly.

TEXT FROM: Cat-fucker *cat emoji*  
>>fukinssfksfjogrj.

“Same buddy.” he whispered.  
Slow tentative steps pulled him off of the bed, the only thought in his mind being the intense need for water. And coffee. And hopefully some painkillers that had been Tooru-approved.

He opened the door of his bedroom the same time Kuroo opened his, both men simultaneously stumbling into the living room and holding their breaths.

The sofa was opened into a bed, and on it, a petite Kenma was snuggled in the embrace of a still-asleep Keiji, who had one arm under his head and one loosely wrapped around Kenma.

Bokuto didn’t know if he wanted to squeal from cuteness or cry with jealousy. The expression on Kuroo’s face told him he thought the same.

Quietly, both men nodded at each other and took quiet steps to the kitchen.

The minute Bokuto shut the kitchen door behind them, Kuroo turned to him, eyes wide and serious.  
“How much do you remember from last night.”  
“I-“  
“I confessed to Tsukishima. I kissed Kenma. Yamaguchi probably punched me. Bokuto, I _need_ to know how much you remember of what you did last night. See how much shit we’re both in.”

Bokuto was ambushed.  
“I-think I made out with Akaashi. And he didn’t like it. Said something I should probably remember? That’s all. Ah, and I remember seeing Lev make out with Yaku. That image won’t ever leave my mind man, I’m _haunted_.”

Kuroo shook his head.  
“Dude. We’re in deep shit. Deep. Shit.”

Bokuto tried to reply, but he felt the door open, and saw Akaashi step in, stretching his arms over his head and tensing his back.

“Good morning”, he mastered around a yawn.  
Kuroo replied, but Bokuto just stood there, trying his best not to look at Akaashi’s lips, at the small part of stomach he could see when Akaashi stretched. Trying to forget the feel of his skin, and the bitter smile he gave him. 

“Bro. Hey, OWL-FUCKER.”  
Bokuto yelped, turning his attention to Kuroo.  
“I _said_ there’s this box of medicine here that had a UFO drawing on it. Those are the Tooru-approved meds right?” he said, fiddling with a box of pills in his hands.

“Ah, yeah, the ones with the skull are the disapproved ones. Take two and pass them over.” he sighed. Bless Tooru and his medical career.

Akaashi raised an eyebrow at the sight but said nothing, other than to thank Kuroo when he offered him a cup of coffee, knowing that if the pain in his eyes was anything to go by, he could really, really use the caffeine.

 

Kuroo had a million questions. He wanted to ask Akaashi what happened, why they left, what weight is hiding behind his words. How he ended up so close with Kenma, why did Kenma cry, what went _wrong_.  
But he couldn’t. He didn’t deserve an answer.  
So he just stood there, drinking coffee and blaming his headache on last night.

Soon enough, a bleary-eyed Kenma walked in, bed hair making his whole attire _cuter_ , if that was even possible.  
He rubbed his eyes and said good morning, ignoring everyone in favour for a quick kiss on the forehead by Akaashi, and rummaging around the coffee cabinet for a packet of tea.

Was Kenma always like this…?  
Sure, he had days where he was distant, but never like this. Never this much. If he didn’t want any physical contact he’d let Kuroo know, but this time, he was getting said contact by _Akaashi_ without a problem. So what, in the name of everything holy and unholy, was going on?

Bokuto seemed to be wondering the same thing, if the glance he gave Kuroo was anything to go on.

Not a heartbeat after, both Kuroo and Bokuto’s phones vibrated, letting them know both had a message on their shared group chat with Tooru.

MESSAGE FROM: Sexy Trashcan *alien emoji*  
>>Ladies~ Good morning! Hope you didn’t take Tylenol by accident and died (๑•́ ₃ •̀๑) Anyhoo, meet me for coffee once your sorry asses get out of bed! I want to say bye to Kenma and Akaashi~

Uh-Oh. Kuroo didn’t know what raised more flags; Tooru’s cheerfulness this early in the day with a raging hangover, or the fact that he _wanted to say ‘bye’_ to the two boys.

“Uh. It’s Tooru. Says he wants to see you guys before you go back.”  
Kenma hummed in reply.  
“I also want to say bye to Tooru.” 

Kuroo nodded, and texted back.  
>>K. How long do painkillers need to kick in?

Tooru replied a while after, probably busy nursing his own headache.  
>>30 minutes, probably? Don’t forget to drink water~ Especially since you’re both _thirsty_ as fuck (｡☌ᴗ☌｡)

Bokuto replied first, leaving Kuroo to get back to making coffee and pondering over last nights’ events.

>>See ya in 30 minutes then, asshole~ 

_Great. This would make for the most awkward meet-up I’ll ever have to endure,_ Kuroo thought.  
And boy, was he right.

***********************************

Oikawa’s first reaction was to let his hand wonder around, eyes still shut, hoping he’d find the bottle of water he left by his bed since last night, along with the packet of painkillers to ease the throbbing of his head.

What he didn’t expect, was his hand to fall onto a more sturdy surface, warm to the touch. Moving his hand experimentally, he jerked it away when he realised what he was feeling was bone and muscle. 

_Why was there a body next to him?!_

He snapped his eyes open and sat up, despite the dizziness the action caused.  
The sleeping form next to him groaned, turning so he could face Tooru.

“Wow. For someone that drunk themselves into oblivion, you sure got energy.”  
He felt like screaming. Why was Iwaizumi smiling at him like that? What was he doing in Iwaizumi's dorm room? _What the fuck happened last night?_

As if reading the question on his face, Iwaizumi sighed and sat up too, scratching the back of his neck.

“We didn’t have sex, if that’s what you’re freaking out over. You got so drunk you passed out, so I carried you back. I _did_ consider just dropping you in front of your house, let you face the consequences of getting that plastered, but I’m just too nice of a person for that.”

Oikawa couldn’t look at him in the eye. No matter how drunk he might’ve been or how little he remembered from last night, he didn’t forget the look on Iwaizumis’ face. The smile, the apology splitting his lips, bruising his heart and crushing it to a pulp.

“Ah, you probably want meds right? Wait, I’ll go get some-“

Oikawa got up, thankful that he was still dressed, despite the clothes being the same as last night.  
His whole body was _begging_ him to lie back down, sleep the nausea off, reduce the black spots at the corners of his vision, but he ignored it, putting the foolish pride he had left in his blood to use.

“Don’t you dare.” he breathed, hissed behind gritted teeth.  
“Dare what? Oikawa, you’re probably feeling like shit, lie back down and-“

He clenched his fists, felt the spastic spasms of his muscles at the action, failing his body.  
“I said, don’t you dare. I don’t want your help. Your pity. None of it.”

He looked up for a minute, and that was all he needed. The look on Iwaizumis face, the shock, then the recognition, the hand reaching out for Oikawa.

He moved away from the touch like it was poison, like his skin would burn at the contact. It may just as well burn, he thought.

He straightened his back, looked Iwaizumi straight in the eye despite the choking fear, the tears threatening to spill.

He remembered what he said to Ushijima, back then, after the match that eventually cost him his whole volleyball career.

_This worthless pride of mine. You’d best never forget it._  
He laughed, the sound coming out strained, hoarse voice put to use.  
Who’d have known that that pride would become the only thing he had left.

“Goodbye, Iwaizumi Hajime.”  
Without giving him a chance to reply, he turned on his feet and moved out, only stopping to grab his shoes from the floor and putting them on outside, not wanting to spend another minute in Iwaizumis’ dorm room, give him the chance to run after him.

He didn’t run after him.  
_He never planned to._ he thought bitterly and left, heavy feet dragging him back to his apartment.

It’s fine. Oikawa Tooru was used to this. Oikawa Tooru knew how to hide his feelings, how to bite them, crush them, let them rot in the pits of his heart, let them eat him up whilst a smile was plastered on his lips, cold and venomous and _fake._  
So completely fake.

***************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! Would you like some angst with your coffee? :)  
> I've been a reader for so long, that now that I'm writing I understand how frustrating it is to have to wait to read the continuation of something. However with the excessive workload from uni, I'm going to shorten my chapters a bit this week, but will try to update daily.
> 
> Also...this chapter has been a PSA. Careful when you take painkillers and alcohol guys, lol~
> 
> As always, hope you liked it, and I'll see you at the next chapter! If you'd like to talk/ask about a one shot e.t.c., contact me on my tumblr (http://dontmindme-imafangirl.tumblr.com) or here~


	11. High Hopes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenma and Akaashi are leaving.  
> Bokuto and Kuroo are at loss.  
> Oikawa's sad.  
> What else is new?

Kenma felt a bitter taste in his mouth.  
Something about Oikawa was….off. To say the least.  
He couldn’t believe the man thought that their I.Q. was low enough to think that the smile sewn to his face, the over-exaggerated movements and loud voice wasn’t completely fake, pretentious.

His voice was loud, obnoxiously happy, showing that _no, there’s nothing wrong, not at all!_

But the redness of his eyes, the empty gaze told a different story. One that Kenma was all too familiar with.

Oikawa was in the middle of an argument with Kuroo about which Power Ranger was the best, when Kenma spoke up, avoiding the glance of any of his friends.

“Tooru. I kind of really want a latte.”  
The boy raised an eyebrow at him.  
“O..kay?”  
“I mean one of the fancy long-named ones you always get. Come with me to help me pick.”  
He didn’t ask, merely demanded and got up, making sure to wait for Tooru to snap out of it and follow him.

The queue to the cashier was long, but that only benefited Kenma.

“So what kind of latte do you-“  
“What happened.”

The smile froze on Tooru’s lips, his feet scrambling to keep him afloat. “Hm?”

“Just because everyone’s playing along doesn’t mean nothing’s wrong. So I repeat. What happened.”

Oikawa oftentimes forgot how smart Kenma was, how observant. Why he was called the ‘brain and backbone of Nekoma’.

“Nothing all that grave-no need to snap at me Ken-chan!” he grinned again, feeling another layer building over the multiple masks he was already cowering behind.

Kenma shifted his gaze to him, letting him know he was on to him, on to his facade. He felt a shiver run down his spine.

“I know that look Tooru. Trying to hide your pain won’t make it go away. You won’t feel better.”  
Tooru felt the meaning behind the statement, could see the sympathy on Kenma’s face.  
What had he gone through to know the pain Tooru felt…?

He sighed, and tugged Kenma by the sleeve of his sweater and outside the cafe, hoping none of their friends noticed.

He stood a few blocks down the coffee shop with Kenma, who patiently put his hands in his sweater’s pockets, skinny feet planting themselves in front of Tooru.

He leaned on the side of a building, recollecting himself, trying to form coherent sentences in his head that would convey the story without showing his pain, without betraying the facade he had going on.

“He…he said to stop the whole thing. The ‘sex-buddies’ thing. That he couldn’t do it anymore.”  
Kenma stayed silent but nodded, electing a sigh from Tooru.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face Kozume…it was too much. Seeing the person you love _look at you_ but not really see you…it’s too much.”

He felt his layers falling, breaking, peeling away like an onion, stinging his eyes, his chest, his whole being.

“I know. It hurts, and it sucks and it makes your chest clench. It’s okay to not hide that, Tooru.”

Kenma looked at him in understanding, and Tooru couldn’t hold the flood back anymore. He started crying, gross sobbing mess, clinging to the back of Kenma’s sweater.  
Kenma gently moved his hands to his back, rubbing soothing circles and letting him cry, shielding him from wandering strangers and their looks, trying to keep him safe in the only way Kenma could.

He knew the pain. Far too well.

After a while and a message from Kuroo asking very explicitly where the hell they were, Tooru calmed down, rubbing his eyes with the sleeves of his jacket. 

He smiled, finally a genuine tug of lips, his face seeming lighter, brighter.  
“Kozume. Thank you.”

Kenma couldn’t hide the small smile.  
“Don’t ever forget you have friends Tooru. And don’t give up just yet.”

Tooru averted his gaze, looking down at the pavement, the feeling of wanting to merge with it and erase himself from existence far too big.

“You’ve known him since you first learned to talk. Iwaizumi was your first everything. Don’t let that slip away. Talk. And then you can decide from there on what the best course of action is. But don’t form conclusions without an explanation. Guessing will only take you so far.”

Tooru wondered if he ever heard Kenma talk this much in one breath. He appreciated the effort.  
“Maybe you should apply that same advice too.” he whispered, but Kenma heard him, loud and clear. He shook his head.

“Yeah. Maybe I should.”

*********************************  
“Man, how the hell did you guys end up at the other end of the street? Did you go latte-alien—hunting or some shit? Because from Tooru, I’d expect that, but _you_ Kenma? Nuh-uh.”   
Bokuto stretched his hands behind his back, trying his best to keep cool when he was about to say goodbye to Akaashi in less than half an hour-presumably forever.

He peeked to his side to see Akaashi walking, his head down, one hand gripped tightly on his backpacks’ strap.  
Back to square 0 it is then.

“We just took a walk because I got stressed out. There were too many people in the queue.”  
All of them knew this was a lie-when they returned, Tooru’s face was blotched and red, eyes dry but his smile finally real. They all sighed a sigh of relief at the sight.

“Just let us know next time”, Kuroo retorted, “We were worried you got yourselves abducted by a UFO or something.”

Kuroo was still equally at loss about what to do with Kenma. The only reason he could think of that the smaller boy could be so distant from him for, is the kiss from last night.  
But then again, he felt like this behaviour has been going on for longer than that.   
Probably since they first began this whole ‘fake-dating’; this play pretend, fates’ way of toying with Kuroo’s one desire.

He was walking next to Kenma, who looked too engrossed in his phone as always-he couldn’t help but chuckle at the familiarity of it, comforting amidst the foreign behaviour of the past days.

Kenma looked up at him and smiled, a small tentative smile playing on his lips. Kuroo could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks, thankful that his smaller friend turned his attention back to his phone.

_I have to fix this_ he thought, the sense of purpose overpowering the confusion of _what_ it is he had to fix exactly. He wouldn’t be able to survive without the small smiles, the casual touches, the daily conversations.  
Even if he had to give up on the thought of ever being more than a friend to Kenma.

**********************************

The walk to the station felt shorter than usual, as if time was plotting against Bokuto, pushing him to say goodbye earlier than he was ready to.

Kenma and Akaashi were checking the panel hovering over them for when their train would arrive, Bokuto and Kuroo standing a bit further back.

Bokuto was lost in thought when Kuroo gently nudged him with his shoulder.  
“If you think too much about it, you’ll never say what you want to say.”

He didn’t turn to look at him, and Bokuto let his gaze wonder to where Kuroo was looking;of course. He was looking at Kenma, a bitter expression that he never wanted to see on his best friends’ face nestling itself on his features.

“You too you know.”  
Kuroo huffed.  
“No. I lost that chance quite a long time ago.” he turned to look at Bokuto now, face stern, “But you haven’t. Not yet. So _go_.”

He gulped but nodded, knowing that despite Kuroo being wrong about him losing _his_ chance, he was also right.  
Bokuto had to do this.

He took a deep breath, when the two shorter men turned back at them, to let them know when their train would arrive.  
Everything happened fast after that.

Kuroo grabbed Kenma’s arm, gently tugging him away from Akaashi and almost to the other end of the station despite Kenma’s protests, both hands on Kuroo’s arm trying to free himself despite how weak he was in contrast to his childhood friend.   
Akaashi stared in wonder, about to move to go help out his friend, but Bokuto reacted fast, taking a hold of Akaashi’s wrist.

“Keiji. Wait.”  
Akaashi’s lips were parted, eyes wide and brutally vulnerable. He looked at Bokuto, half hoping to hear what he wanted to hear, and half wanting to move away from the touch, from the words, from the confrontation. Just hide himself among the people and be gone, forever.

“Akaashi. I’m. I’m sorry.”  
He took a breath and met Akaashi’s gaze, controlling himself so as to not get lost in the same eyes he couldn’t stop looking at all this years in high school.

“I did a mistake. Back then. I didn’t think that you’d want to speak to me again after that. Never thought there’d be a chance for…you know. _Us._. I had absolutely zero cool, and freaked out. Never took your feelings into consideration and…I’m sorry.”

Akaashi’s wrist went rigid in his hold.

“And I’m sorry for last night to. I should’ve respected your boundaries more; Don’t look at me like that, you know I remember. I wouldn’t forget that no matter how much drinks were involved.” he noted when Akaashi raised his eyebrows.

“I just…that confession still stands. But I’d like to rephrase it. If it’s uh, if it’s alright with you.”  
He took Akaashi’s silence as an approval.

Bokuto tugged his wrist towards him, feeling positive when Akaashi let himself move closer to him, looking up at his face to bridge the height difference.

“Akaashi. I like you. No actually, fuck that, it’s probably more than that, because like, it’s been years and like isn’t that strong a word right? At least that’s what one of my weird old professors says and oh man I’m rambling, the thing is I don’t just _like you_ -no wait shit I do, but like it’s not just _that_ it’s so much more and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you until now and-“

He didn’t notice when Akaashi tugged his wrist free from his hold, but he noticed when a gentle squeeze of his hand by Keiji’s own flushed warmth into his body.  
“Koutarou.”

It was all the reassurance he needed. Why was he ranting when all he wanted to say was oh so simple?

“Akaashi. I love you. Would you please punch me in the face and then date me?”

Keiji laughed, hard and sincere and _loud_. This whole thing was so…so…so _Bokuto-like_ a confession so ridiculous, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Why punch you?” he grinned, moving a palm up to Bokuto’s cheek.  
“Because I was a big bag of dicks. But I’ll change! I’ll be…a _smaller_ bag of dicks! If you’d let me. Like, it’s up to you of course and I’m not leaving this time, I’ll wait for your answer as long as you want to-“

He shut up when he felt a chaste sense of lips pecking his own.   
“No need. I love you too, you idiot owl-fucker.”

“You stole that from Kuroo didn’t you.” He smiled sheepishly.

Akaashi hummer in reply, but then let the smile fall from his lips, face now serious, eyebrows furrowed.   
“Bokuto. If this… _thing_ is to work, you need to promise me. No more running away. Not again, not ever.”

Bokuto nodded, feeling the ferocity and hurt behind Akaashi’s words.  
“Never again. I’m sorry.”

He let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding in when Akaashi’s face returned to a soft look, feeling the warmth radiating from the hand resting on his cheek.  
“Good.”

He let the hand drop, making Bokuto hiss at the loss of contact.  
There were still a lot of things he wanted to say, to ask. He wanted to talk about a million more things with Akaashi, let him make up his terms for his end of this relationship, or even just let him rant about his daily life, catch up on whatever he’s been missing out on the past three months.

But he knew there was no need to rush. Akaashi wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he. Not this time.  
********************************  
Kenma finally understood why Kuroo forcefully tugged him away from his friend when he saw, from this much a distance and through Bokuto’s owlish hair, Akaashi stepping up on his toes and moving closer to Bokuto, noticing the sudden tension on Bokuto’s raising shoulders.  
Ah. He must’ve kissed him. Bold, Akaashi, bold.

Kuroo felt Kenma owlishly blink up at him, forcing himself to look down to his way.  
“Did you plan all this?”

He put a hand behind his neck, tilting his face away.  
“Not quite…But I’m glad it worked out. That owl freak deserves to be happy.”

“You do too.”  
He didn’t know if he imagined the words or if they really slipped Kenma’s lips, quiet forceful and _sad_. Why would they be sad? What did Kenma _want_ him to do?

He felt the same gaze look up to him again, but this time he didn’t reciprocate. He moved to check his phone, taking a look at the time.

“Your train’s coming soon right? Let’s go warn the two idiots that they’ll have to say goodbye soon.”  
He saw Kenma nod from the side of his eye and moved away, heading back to Bokuto and Akaashi.

He was happy for them. He really was.  
But the happiness he felt for his best friend, and the pain settled in the pit of his entity were two entirely different things.  
Kuroo wasn’t stupid enough to believe that things would go his way. That there was even a minuscule chance he’d also get the happy ending Bokuto was.

Because this wasn’t a rom-com, and he wasn’t the quirky protagonist of the story that could make the heroine fall in love with him.

This was real life, and all he knew was that he was letting his best friend, the person he loved, slip right through his fingers, and he had no idea how to stop it, or if he should stop it.  
Perhaps, he shouldn’t.

***************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to Kodaline's High Hopes while editing this. Make what you want of this!  
> Phew, it took me a while to write despite it being this short.  
> Anyway, first couple-DONE! Well, not quite. There's still a lot more for Bokuto and Akaashi to resolve through. If you guys want me to, I can write a spin-off/one-shot on that. But we'll see how that goes. First we have quite a few more people to make happy again, don't we? :)
> 
> Sorry if I have any mistakes btw-I was in a rush to post it since I gotta leave for uni in...oops. In 20 minutes. Hope you guys like the chapter~


	12. Game Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resolutions aren't always met.   
> Not right away.

****************

Oikawa knew what he had to do. Go to Iwaizumi’s, apologise for his behaviour that morning, ask him to explain what’s going on, why he doesn’t like that… _thing_ they did anymore.

But he also knew what he _wanted_ to do. Which, other than crawl up a hole and wallow in self-pity, was to just forget about Iwaizumi, about the years they spent side-by-side. Ignore the fact he ever felt anything for his childhood friend.

He wanted to prove to himself that this feelings were minuscule, that he could get over Iwaizumi and his stupid smile in the blink of an eye, that his heart never stung at the thought of Iwaizumi with someone else, that he didn't choke back tears when talking about him to his friends.  
He wanted to prove that Iwaizumi didn't mean the whole world to him.

In the end, instinct won over reason, and the minute his classes were over, Oikawa found himself anxiously moving from lecture hall to lecture hall, floor to floor, until he reached the anatomy lab. 

_He’s not going to be there_ he pondered. He _wished_ he wouldn’t be here, his body on autopilot, moving him without reason. 

_Don’t be here don’t be here don’t be here don’t-_

But he was.  
Assistant or not, he looked so professional when he was focused; intense gaze looking down at the bones in the box he was carrying, his hair a messy bob, counting and moving around the lab room in easy strokes, knowing his way around with a practiced ease. 

Oikawa tried his best to take himself away from the man, already feeling his stomach churning, knowing that he _shouldn’t_ be doing this, he should be running to Iwaizumi’s dorm, telling him he loves him, that he wants no one else, but-

“Tooru? What’re you doing here?”  
He looked up at him, eyes big and blue, the usual smirk lacking from his face.

He gulped when the assistant let go of the box of bones, setting it carefully on the desk and moved to him.

“We don’t have a lab today. Nor am I teaching you any lectures. The professor’s on it for the week, said I should go through some things with the second years.” He leaned over Oikawa, hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “So the question still stands. Why are you here?”

 

Tooru didn’t want to do this. He really didn’t, but then again he felt that he _had to_ , that there was a bet he placed with himself, long forgotten, and he wanted to prove that he was _right._

With a shaky breath he grabbed the front of the man’s lab coat, pulling him down to meet his lips.  
It wasn’t what he expected.

His lips were soft, plump and smooth on top of his. He didn’t smell of smoke or sweat or anything other than fresh scent of deodorant and lavender detergent from his white surgical clothes. He was an excellent kisser, just as he bragged about. The way he slithered his hand around Oikawa’s waist and took the other one on the back of his neck, pulling gently through his hair, was so inconspicuous that at first Oikawa didn't realise. He deepened the kiss without a question, his teeth didn’t clash with Toorus’ even once.

He pulled back after a bit, panting and lips swollen, but he immediately dug his face into Tooru’s neck, leaving small kisses and pushing the boundaries when he set a hand under his shirt.

Oikawa lost the bet after all.  
“Stop. I mean it, please, stop, I was wrong to initiate this; Please.” he begged between short pants.  
He complied, moving his hands away from Oikawa, taking a step back.

“Couldn’t betray your boyfriend after all?” he smirked, though his gaze was soft, not teasing like other times.

Oikawa shook his head.

“Yeah, figured as much. Next time you get into a love quarel, don’t do this. I may just not stop at that.”

He felt his eyes burn, tear up, and he moved an arm over his face, not wanting to show weakness, not after all this time, not after all the effort he put into practicing fake smiles in his mirror every morning for God knows how long.

He heard him sigh, felt the breeze of air as he moved away.  
Through teary eyes, Oikawa saw him return to the box of bones, casually, as if the whole ordeal never happened.

“Go to him. You obviously need to talk.”

Tooru could do nothing but give a weak nod, trying his best to remove the tremor in his voice for what he was about to say.  
“I-thank you. I’m sorry.”

The man turned up at him, small smile hidden under his scruff of beard.  
“There’s no need. Just-go. And for the love of God, don’t let that ball of anger come after me. If you tell him about this, I had nothing to do with it ok? You just…forced me to a wall or something, I don’t know.” he grinned.

Oikawa laughed but nodded. “Okay”, he whispered, “Okay.”  
He was so stupid. What was he trying to prove anyway? That it can be no-one else but Iwaizuimi? He knew that from Day 1. He knew that from the very first moment he saw Hajime, back when they were kids, dopey eyed and innocent, clasping his hand into Iwaizumi’s when they went to the playground.

Of course he couldn’t be substituted by anyone else. No matter what, Oikawa would always crave the taste of smoke and the smell of sweat after practices, the rough bites all over his body, almost like a mark of ownership. The gentle whispers and grazing kisses.

No matter how much nicer anyone else was, how much better, they would never be that.  
They would never be Iwaizumi Hajime. 

*************************************

Kuroo did his utmost best to hide the heavy weight in his chest, tried to grin along with his best friend, genially proud of him, happy that they made up with Akaashi. He nodded along at the ranting of Bokuto, eyes big and owlish, jumping up and down on their way back to their apartment, a lighter sense in his step.   
But the weight wouldn’t leave. It wouldn’t let him match Bokuto’s light pace, it merely let him trudge behind, pretending everything was fine.

“I hope you talk to Kenma soon! How cool would it be if we all went on group dates together?!” he laughed, the sound breathy and joyous to hear. It was something that Kuroo hand’t heard from his best friend in a while.

He put a hand in his pocket and pulled out his packet of cigarettes, not caring that he’d be smoking in the middle of the street. If that would put his mind at ease even for a second, then so be it.

“I’m not, Bo.”  
Bokuto halted in his steps, moving close and into Kuroo’s personal space, an eyebrow raised.

“What do you _mean _you won’t? You have to! Did you see him this weekend?!”  
“Yeah, I did. He was sad and awkward because I was a fuckboy that touched and kissed him without consent. Not even an apology would be enough after that.”__

__Bokuto groaned, planting a hand on his forehead with a loud smack.  
“How can you be such an IDIOT. Really. How.”_ _

__“I took after you probably” he huffed, really not wanting to deal with this right now.  
“Kuroo Tetsurou. I raised you better than that. You will go to that boy and tell him how you feel. You know that Kenma would accept you no matter what.”_ _

__He shook his head, moving the accusing finger Bokuto was pointing in his face away from him.  
“No Bo. There’s things that can be done and things that can’t.”_ _

__“Fine! Be that way! But at the very least ,you owe him an explanation. You _need_ to talk about that kiss Kuroo, you know he won’t say anything himself, but he’ll think about it. He’ll want to ask about it, why you did it.”_ _

__“Because I was drunk and stupid and scared. That’s why.”  
“Kuroo. Talk to him. Tonight. You’ll call him later tonight won’t you? Do that, at the very least.”_ _

__He sighed, knowing that he’d never win an argument against a persistent Bokuto.  
“Yeah. Yeah sure, okay.”_ _

__*********************************_ _

__It must’ve been 3 in the morning when he finally run out of cigarettes._ _

__Kuroo never realised how or when he started smoking. One moment he was a bright eyed 16-year old kid, swearing he’d never smoke because ‘That’s how your lungs get bad and how will I play volleyball professionally?’ and the next he was almost 18, sitting on the porch of Kenma’s window, lighting cigarettes and telling funny stories of his day to Kenma, despite him living them with him._ _

___Kenma. How could he face him again?  
He tried to send a text. A simple ‘Hey! How’s it hanging?’ but he failed, his hands trembled far too much.  
He barely mastered to send him a simple ‘K’ when Kenma texted him himself, letting him know both him and Akaashi reached home safely, and even then Bokuto was the one to hit send for him, adding a smiley emoji at the end of his own accord._

__He understood, he realised. It was too late to take things back to how they used to be. But it was also too late to grasp the chance, to confess, to embrace Kenma and have him hug him back, small hands finding their way around his waist.  
He lost all that the moment he accepted that the feelings he had for Kenma weren’t just those of friendship._ _

__He was about to text Tooru, see if he was up, when his phone vibrated in his hands, the number on the screen sending shivers down his spine._ _

__MESSAGE FROM: Kitten /.\  
>>Kuroo. Are you awake?_ _

__He took a deep breath, thankful for the breeze in the balcony; even the cold air that hit his face barely reassured him he had enough oxygen in his lungs._ _

__> >Yeah. Yeah I am._ _

__It took a while for the next message to come, leaving Kuroo to melt into a pool of nerves, hands fiddling with the railing of the balcony since he no longer had smokes to keep him occupied._ _

__He felt his phone vibrate in his hand._ _

___MESSAGE FROM: Kitten /.\ (4)_  
>>Good. I need to talk to you.   
>>I’m sorry. For making you play along this whole thing. It was wrong of me, especially when you had feelings for Kei.   
>>Let’s drop it, I’ll deal with Lev otherwise. Don’t worry.  
>>Goodnight Kuroo. 

__He felt the phone slip through his hands, not caring if the screen cracked at the impact.  
Lev? Kei?_ _

____Shit._   
Amidst all the confusion he _forgot._ He forgot to tell Kenma the confession wasn’t meant for Tsukishima, that Lev was too busy pining after Yaku to like him, that the kiss-oh God, that the kiss wasn’t something he did on an impulse.  
That Kenma Kozume was never an impulse for him. _

__The need for nicotine was long forgotten, excreted from his system, the broken screen of his phone the least of his worries._ _

__He had to go, he had to meet him, explain to him, _tell him_.  
Tell him that he loved him so much that the thought of being without him hurt._ _

__Kuroo didn’t lose his chance. Not yet.  
It wasn't game over until he quit._ _

__******************************************_ _

__

__Tooru knew how ironic it was. He really did.  
A medical student, a person that spent the last weeks studying the biochemistry of detoxification of the liver, comparing healthy livers with those of alcoholics, should have every reason to avoid drinking, knowing that the responsible thing to do would be to take care of his body._ _

__But Oikawa Tooru, he concluded, was a coward. And hence he drank, hoping to get some liquid courage, convey his feelings in a drunken text and hope they’d be accepted._ _

___What he didn't expect however, was that in his drunken mess, this late at night, his feet would carry him in front of Iwaizumi’s door, being lucky enough to meet one of his dorm mate’s at the door that let him in.  
What was he doing in front of Iwa-chan’s room again?  
…Oh, right._

__He knocked the door with lazy knuckles, his knees wobbling, his mind spinning._ _

__“If you fuckers are pranking me again I swear I’ll throw your pop tarts out the window, I got an 8a.m lecture-“  
Iwaizumi stopped midway when he opened the door to find a grinning Oikawa, leaning on the side of the door to steady himself._ _

__“Tooru what the fuck-“  
He didn’t miss a heartbeat. He pulled Iwaizumi to him, kissing him sloppily, lazily. Closing his eyes helped him pretend nothing ever happened. Helped him imagine that Iwaizumi was the one to initiate the kiss, that his eyes were only looking at him and no-one else, that his soft smiles would never belong to any other person but him._ _

__He moved away when he felt Iwaizumi not respond to the kiss and sighed, eyes still closed.  
“Iwa-chan. We need to talk.”_ _

__***************************************_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could not for the life of me think of a title.  
> Also, I can't wait to do anatomy next year~ ((Sorry, I had to use that assistant somewhere in the story..It was far too tempting to make Oikawa reciprocate the feeling, even for a minute~))  
> Anyway, you wanted angst, so have angst <3 
> 
> BTW Guys, only a few more chapters to go!   
> I'm so so happy for the support you all show to this fic, and thank you for the 100+ likes and cute comments, checking my computer and seeing you guys be so excited about this makes me a burrito of squirmy happiness~ Thanks! 
> 
> Anyhow, it's late and I need to get back to studying, so that's all for now. See you guys at the next chapter <3


	13. Home is wherever I'm with you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It feels nice, to have a home to go back to.

He reached his old neighbourhood before the sun even rose, which to be fair, was a big accomplishment. The damn city was a good 2 and a half hours away in total, 3 if you count the whole way to the train station and the wait to catch the past-midnight train.

But he was here. He was right here, a block away from Kenma’s house, and he slowly felt the adrenaline leaving his body. 

Slow trudging steps took him to the entrance of Kenma’s house, and he climbed over the fence with a practiced ease, remembering all the times he’d sneak in and out late at night, when both kids wanted nothing more than the company of each other.

He moved himself to the back of the house, quietly making his way to the old oak tree that extended itself to the side of Kenma’s window.  
The old thing was there ever since the two of them were kids, aching to make a treehouse but never actually getting around to doing it, merely using it for climbing up and down to Kenma’s place.

He climbed with careful steps, knowing the trunk and branches like the back of his hands; he knew which one would crack, which one would make noise and which one would support his weight, despite him growing significantly bigger than back when he was 10 and climbed into Kenma’s room to play video games after bedtime.

He saw darkness in Kenma’s room, and for a moment was terrified that his friend was already fast asleep. But a climb higher showed him that no, Kenma was indeed awake, a small light flickering at the end of the room; Kenma was curled on the corner of his bed, engrossed in something on his computer.

He pushed himself closer to the window and knocked.  
No response.  
He tried again, knocking somewhat harder, hoping that Kenma didn’t have his headphones at full volume.  
One more knock made Kenma turn around, noticing the figure in the tree and jumping up, obviously not realising who it was in the pitch dark of the night.

He waved his hand, trying to show Kenma that it was no intruder; as if anyone would be able to find their way on the peak of this tree without falling off a branch. It took Kuroo many tries to find his way around the way he did.

Kenma seemed to start putting the puzzle together, and took slow steps to the window, his phone in hand.

He must’ve opened the flashlight application, because one moment it was pitch dark, and the next a blinding light was pointed in Kuroo’s face.  
Not a heartbeat after that, the window opened, Kenma peeking his head through it.

“…Kuroo?”  
He smiled sheepishly.  
“Hey.”

“Why exactly are you hanging off a tree. In my house.”  
“I wanted to see you?”  
“Kuroo it’s 4a.m on a Sunday.”

He looked behind him, noticing the moon hiding under thick clouds, despite it being the beginning of spring.

“Ah, four in the morning huh. It felt like it was maybe 3ish. Feels like 3ish.”  
“Kuroo it’s a Sunday. Or Monday. Don’t you have lectures tomorrow? Why are you _here_.”  
“Hey, you have school tomorrow too, but I’m not interrogating you about it am I? Now scoot over, my hands are killing me and I’d like to avoid death by falling of a tree.”

Kenma raised an eyebrow but moved aside, letting Kuroo swiftly jump from the branch into Kenma’s window, landing…mildly ungracefully, to the floor, but at least quietly enough to not alert everyone in the house about his presence.

“Man, it’s been a while since I last did this. We should’ve made that treehouse back then; having stairs would’ve helped a bunch.”

He lifted himself off the floor, letting Kenma help him off with a grasped hand.

They stood for a minute, looking at each other with blank gazes.  
“Hey.” he smiled sheepishly, slowly feeling the courage that coursed through his veins before, leaving his bloodstream, his whole body.

“Kuroo, why the fuck are you here.”

He took note of the redness of Kenma’s eyes; the protective stance, hands wrapped around himself and fingers carefully tugged in the material of his sweater, clenching tight.

“I…wanted to talk to you. Had to.”

“And you came here all the way from another city. At four in the morning.” Kenma let his hands fall to his side, slowly feeling more at ease-Kuroo’s presence in his personal space was comforting, despite all the things happening between them lately.

“Yeah…?”

“Have you…not heard of calling? Phones?”

“Too mainstream.” he grinned.

Kenma sighed again but moved to his bed, curling up on the same position he was before, but didn’t put his headphones in, open invitation for Kuroo to join him.  
He did, legs wobbling at the thought of what he came here to say.

Kenma looked down at his screen for a minute, moving to close it, but not before Kuroo caught a glimpse of the video that was on pause on the screen.

“Kenma. Is that…our match? Against Fukurodani?”

The blush on the nape of Kenma’s neck was all the confirmation he needed.

He closed the screen himself, moving to directly sit across from Kenma, shut laptop in-between them.

 _It’s not game over until you quit_ .

 

“Kenma. Look at me.”

He didn’t, face still covered by strands of blonde hair.

“Kenma, please.”  
He did look up at that, an expression on his face that caused Kuroo’s heart to twich. Was he the reason for this pained expression…?

“I’m not in love with Tsukishima.” _That’d be fucking gross_ he added mentally, wincing at the imagery. 

Kenma shook his head, pulling his sleeves over his hands and tightening his grip on his knees.  
“You may not remember, you confessed to him at the party.”

“I do remember, and I know that Kei wasn’t the person I wanted to confess to. I was just…drunk. And stupid. And terrified.” he wished, begged Kenma would recognise what he meant by the tone of voice, the tensing of his body.

“…Then..?”

Kuroo sighed.  
“I _am_ in love with someone. For a long time now. Probably longer than I can remember.”

Kenma’s eyes widened, trying to move away from Kuroo who caught him in time, moving a hand to Kenma’s cheek.

“Kenma. Please don’t hate me for this.”  
He saw the tears forming in the gold of Kenma’s eyes, and felt his own sting with feelings urging to come out.

“I love you.”  
It was barely above a whisper, not louder than a heartbeat, but he knew Kenma heard him. He knew it when he felt the shattered breath escaping the blonde boy’s lips, shutting his eyes and letting trapped tears fall.

Kuroo moved his thumb, wiping the tears away.

Was he wrong after all? Was this the end of the line?

“Are you sure?”

He was taken aback by the question, his hand freezing in place in front of Kenma’s eyelid.

“Are you sure you’d be happy? With someone like me?”

No. No, he did not just ask him that.

“Are you fucking _insane?!_ ” he whisper-yelled. “It can’t be _anyone_ but you. Not now, not ever.”

Kenma’s eyes were still shut, face nuzzled in Kuroo’s palm.

He moved another hand so he’d cup Kenma’s face, bringing it close to his.  
“Listen to me. You’re the best goddamn thing that has ever happened to me. The _second_ you set foot into my life, it was like the world fucking turned into like, an HD video. Fuck Kenma, I’m not an artsy writer or whatever, so I can’t explain it well, but just. You’re fucking perfect. You’re fucking perfect, and I don’t want anyone else but you. Not now, not ever, not in this lifetime or the next.”

He sighed when he felt Kenma stop trembling, opening his eyes to meet his, then shifting down immediatly.

“I love you. Just..just that.”

Kuroo could’ve sworn his heart left his body when Kenma moved a shaky hand to meet his, smiling into the palm of his hand.

“You said the word ‘fuck’ so many times.” he huffed a laugh, soft eyes meeting Kuroo’s.

“Shut up. Fuck is a useful word.”

He moved his forehead to rest it onto Kenma’s, feeling the small hiccups of breath of the smaller boy meet his face.

“I love you.”  
He wasn’t the one to say it. He looked at Kenma, a smile he’d never seen before lacing his face.  
“I love you, I’m-I’m so sorry. I’ve been wanting to say this for so long and now it’s just, it’s too much.”

Drops of tears pooled into his eyes again, hazing the intense gold Kuroo loved. He moved closer, kissing one eye. Then the other. Kenma laughed, squeamish at the touch, but didn’t move away. He moved to peck his forehead, his nose, his reddened cheeks; he looked at him, waiting for permission before reaching to his lips, taking his time, slowly savouring the taste of Kenma, laced with the salted sense of tears.  
Kenma laced his fingers around Kuroos’ neck, tugging him as close as possible, moving himself on his lap. He moved one hand to Kenma’s back, the other moving to tangle itself between tufts of blonde locks. He felt Kenma lick and nip at his lips, asking him to deepen the kiss, and he complied, moving as physically close to Kenma as he could, savouring the warmth radiating from him, breathing in the moment, the feelings, the pain and the tears and the joy.

Both of them were content to just kiss, lazy sloppy kisses leading the two boys to laying down, wrapped in each other’s embrace, Kenma’s head hidden in Kuroo’s chest, Kuroo’s arm wrapped around Kenma’s waist, their bodies a tangled mess of limbs.

The sky outside had already started to shift colours, dark pitch black moving, replaced by a molten blue, tints of pink and red hues making their way into the room, dusting both their faces with its colours.

“Kuroo.”  
He was content in the silence, but hummed in reply, moving his hand to lazily play with Kenma’s hair.

“Kuroo. It’s Monday.”

“Yeah, good job figuring that out Sherlock.”  
He yelped when he felt Kenma push at his chest, moving back to face Kuroo with a big pout , cheeks puffed.

“That means I have _school_ in a few hours.”

Kuroo grinned, mischievous smile setting on his face, making Kenma’s stomach tie in a knot. If it’s one thing he knew about his childhood friend, it’s that that smile always meant trouble.

“Kenma, my love, my little kitten; How good are you at acting?”  
“Don’t even suggest it, you know it won’t work. And don’t call me that.”  
“Come on~”  
“Kuroo we’re not 10 anymore, it doesn’t-“  
“Kozume Kenma. We just give a good old blush to your cheeks, make you look all sad and dopey and voila-your mom will totally believe you caught a cold. You can even call Tooru for extra confirmation.”

Kenma scrunched his nose, letting himself fall back down and onto Kuroo’s chest. He laughed and put his hand through Kenma’s hair again, feeling a certain sense of reassurance at the action.

“Fine. But if she finds out, I’m blaming you.”  
“Then we won’t let her find out.” he laughed, feeling Kenma do the same, face hidden in Kuroo’s shirt.

He took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of Kenma’s body melt into his, almost as if they were never two different people.

 _Ah, so this is what it’s like_ , he thought, _it was this simple. There was never a game over option in the first place._.

**  
Kenma soon fell asleep, Kuroo feeling himself doze off as well, when he heard his phone vibrate.  
Gently, he tugged the hand that Kenma wasn’t grasping to, and moved it around the bed, quietly patting it to find his phone.

He groaned when he did, bright light blinding his eyes, but he reluctantly opened it.

MESSAGE FROM: Owl-whisperer~ (5)  
>>KUROO  
>>WHERE  
>>THE FUCK  
>>ARE YOU  
>>?!?!?!

Kuroo smiled. He looked down at Kenma, his sleeping frame, fluttering eyelashes and parted lips, his whole body curled up and entangled with his, reminding him of the late nights they’d fall asleep watching movies on the couch, the times he clung to Kenma after a match, trying to hold himself together when they lost. The times Kenma wanted to stay away from the world, away from everyone but Kuroo, letting him into his private space, seeking comfort in his touch.

This is where he should’ve been all along.

He typed quickly and hit sent, let the phone drop from his hand and moved it back to Kenma, smiling when the sleeping boy moved his face closer to the hand grazing his cheek, as if by instinct, as if he’d be able to tell his touch apart from anyone else’s.

The text was simple but enough.

>>I’m home.

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek! Finally the big resolution; Kuroo grew a pair! :D
> 
> Guys, we're only 2 chapters away from the end of this fic! I have so many mixed emotions about that. But more on that later, we still have a very broken little duo to check up on, don't we?
> 
> As always, hope you liked the chapter, and big thanks for the support. See you at the next one! I hope you guys liked Kuroo's eloquent confession-I can't imagine him not stumbling over his words or saying fuck about a million times, lol.


	14. Love you more than aliens.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sex and space t-shirts don't go well together.

****  
He never thought there’d come a day he’d be waking up hungover on a weekday. Yet here he was, his stomach’s contents threatening to come out his body, his brain screaming and throbbing in his head.

Oikawa tried to turn around, but felt something draped over him, blocking his way. He tried to move again, but the damn thing wouldn’t budge, and he wasn’t exactly _willing_ to open his eyes to check what he was trapped under.

_Where the fuck did I fall asleep at?!_ he pondered, eventually forcing his bleary eyes open.  
Oh. _Oh._ So this is where he ended up. Again.   
How pathetic.

Iwaizumi’s arm was draped over his waist, heavy and unmoving, his face dangerously close to his, small breaths making his chest rise and fall under the covers.  
Seeing him like this, so serene, so peaceful, Oikawa could almost pretend nothing ever happened. That he was still his childhood friend, lazily waking up after a long sleepover.

Speaking of…what the hell happened last night? He had no recollection of anything whatsoever, so how he ended up snuggled with his best friend was a mystery.

Reluctantly, he pushed the bedsheets and peeked down at his and Hajime’s bodies.  
 _Oh. Well then._   
He looked around the room, slowly trying to move himself free from Iwaizumi’s arm.  
 _There goes my favourite t-shirt_ he thought as he saw his clothes from last night scattered around the room, along with Iwaizumi’s.

He sighed and tried to sit up, but that must’ve stirred the sleeping boy next to him, since he heard Hajime groan, his eyes and nose scrunching at the loss of Oikawa, who took the chance to slither away from Iwaizumi’s grasp and swiftly moved himself to put on his boxers, at the very least. Iwaizumi’s roommates weren’t known to be the most considerate when it came to knocking.

“Morning sunshine.” He heard Iwaizumi, the smile in his voice overbearing, whilst he tried to scramble into his jeans, back turned to him.

“You must’ve been really desperate for sex if you call _this_ face sunshine.” he turned around, pointing to his face, certain his hair were flying in all directions a 3D world could allow, felt such a strain to his eyes that he could only assume they were red and puffy. From drinking, lack of sleep, crying, or a combination of all, he didn’t know.

“Not really. You just look bright to me either way.”   
Hearing the smile in Iwaizumi’s voice was one thing. But actually _seeing it_ , the soft fondness in his eyes, the elbow propping him up on the bed with his cheek resting on his fist, small smile directed to Oikawa, _for_ Oikawa? 

He could almost feel his heart stop.

“Uhm…good morning to you too?”  
He was at loss; why was Iwaizumi being so…sweet? Shouldn’t he be kicking him out of the room right about now, telling him to get lost, not to scramble drunk and (most obviously) horny into his place?

Iwaizumi got up, moving to his closet and throwing on a pair of sweatpants.  
“Go lie back down; you look like you’re about to throw up.” he gently swatted the back of Tooru’s head and left the room, leaving Oikawa alone to ponder just _what the everlasting fuck_ was going on. 

Ignoring Iwaizumi’s ‘order’, he moved to put on his shirt, until he realised what a… _mess_ it had become in what he presumed was the aftermath of last night. With a sigh he let the shirt back to the floor and moved to Iwaizumi’s closet, pulling out one of his shirts without much mind. He didn’t notice at first, not until he looked up to the mirror hanging on the inside of the closet.

He gasped, got ready to rip the shirt off of him, but as if on cue, Iwaizumi walked back in, holding a mug of coffee in each hand.

“I know you drink your coffee as if you’re trying to push the limits of becoming a diabetic, but I thought sugar might worsen your stomach-“

Oikawa breathed a sigh of relief when Iwaizumi didn’t drop the mugs, despite the awe-struck expression on his face.

“It’s really not what it looks like-I just, my shirt’s a mess, I grabbed the first one I found in your closet, I didn’t expect-“

Oikawa never got to finish his rant because suddenly Iwaizumi’s lips were on his, rough and sweet and exactly how a kiss with the person you love should be.

He moved back when he sensed Oikawa’s shock, not even responding to the kiss.  
“Sorry, I just-seeing you wearing my _jersey t-shirt_ …fuck.”

Oikawa truly believed he forgot how to blink. Or breathe. Or function like a living organism.  
What…the…fuck?

“Iwa-chan…what was that for?” his words came out so slow, so mechanic, he might as well just give up on his vocal chords forever and go hide in a cave, embarrassment of the moment seeping into his being.

“Because you’re wearing my Aoba Johsai jersey, and you look absolutely adorable?” he offered, moving one mug to Tooru, who apparently has now also forgotten how to use his peripheral nervous system because he couldn’t will his hands to move and pick up the mug.

Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at that, but moved the mug back, setting both of them on the nightstand by the bed.

“I don’t really get why you’re so shocked, especially not after last night” he sighed, turning back to Oikawa, until realisation hit him in the face. “Wait…Tooru. You…you _do_ remember what happened, right?”

Oikawa felt like a kid caught with its hand in the cookie jar.

“I-I don’t..”

The pain on Iwaizumi’s face made him wish he could take it back, tell him he was lying. But that’d make things even worse. There was nothing he could do right anymore.

“Oh. I see. Sorry.” Iwaizumi shifted his gaze, moving by Tooru to leave the room.

As if by reflex, Oikawa reached out, grabbed Iwaizumi’s arm. Hajime stopped, letting Oikawa hold on to him, but didn’t turn to face him, his expression hidden from Oikawa’s view in what most obviously must’ve been a way to hide his own embarassement.

Tooru tried to speak, he opened and closed his mouth, but no words could come out. Not the ones he wanted to say.

But he knew what he had to do. He knew the reason he drunk himself into oblivion, the reason he hurt himself and everyone around him. He _knew_ , and if Iwaizumi hated him for it afterwords, then so be it. At least he’d still have his pride and conscience.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I don’t remember. But I-shit Hajime, I _know_ we can’t keep doing this. You were right, that night, you were right. _I_ can’t do this either. Not when I know that it’s not just sex.”

Iwaizumi still didn’t meet his gaze, and he could feel the lump forming in his throat, all too familiar lately.

“It’s not just sex. Not to me. Because I could never denote you down to just that. You’re my best friend, the person I want to share everything with, but it’s so much more than that. I can’t be your friend when my feelings for you aren’t just of friendship.” his eyes started to water, evident in the break of his voice. “Hajime, I love you. And I know you probably don’t feel the same, but I have, for so long and-“ he was shaking, moving a hand to wipe the tears off his face, “If, by any minuscule chance, _if_ you want to continue this, to work something out with me-if you think there’s even a chance you could like me then I’m in, I’m in all the way, ’til the end of the line.”

He took a shaky breath, feeling the fingers on Iwaizumi’s arm tremble.  
“Then again if you never want to see my face again, I also understand that. I’ll respect it. Just please-please don’t go through this out of pity. Or because you don’t want to lose your friend. Please don’t do that.”   
He let his hand drop from Hajime, bringing both his hands to his face, unable to control his tears-though that seemed to be a frequent occurrence lately.

He gasped when he felt a pair of arms wrap around him, moving to clash his face on the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck, breathing in the comforting scent with shaky breaths.  
Hajime pulled away, keeping his arms around Tooru, his eyes gleaming. 

“Nice save, idiot.”

He tried to speak, but Iwaizumi brought a finger to his lips, hushing him before he started ranting again.

“I assumed you’d remember absolutely nothing-we didn’t even go all the way yesterday, you were so wasted you fell asleep.”  
Tooru felt his cheeks heat up, sniffling to cover his snot-covered nose.

Iwaizumi laughed and moved to the nightstand, grabbing a tissue and bringing it to Oikawa’s nose, pinching it teasingly.  
“You came here, romantically expressed your ‘ _undying eternal love_ ’ to me and how you don’t care if I don’t have a _beard_ or don’t _kiss that well and don’t smell like lavender_ but that you’d still love me and-well. Who could resist a confession like that?” He laughed, letting Oikawa grab the tissue from him, sending him a glare that was disheartened by the furious reddening of his face. 

“There was a reason I said what I said that night Tooru. And it wasn’t to hurt you. It was never to hurt you, or pity you or whatever it is you thought it was for.”

Oikawa stared, unable to do anything with himself when Hajime moved a hand to the back of his neck, bringing their foreheads together.

“It was because through the whole thing, I started developing feelings _for you_. Or well, more like realising I had them. I think they were there all along.”

Oikawa felt his mouth open in surprise, letting Iwaizumi push his jaw back with his fingertips.  
“I love you too, you big fucking hipster.”

He blinked a few times, suddenly remembering how to breathe.

“I don’t know if I should kiss you or give you the middle finger.”

Hajime laughed, sound coming clear and loud into Tooru’s ears, filling something in his chest he never realised was empty.

“How about you kiss me and leave the second part for another time.”

“You _dirtied_ my favourite shirt! You deserve more than the middle finger!” he groaned, but still brought his face closer to Iwaizumi’s, the tip of his nose meeting his.

“Hey, _you_ helped dirty it. It’s not just my fault your beloved E.T. is covered in-“  
“Shut up! Don’t say it! Don’t you dare say it!” he squealed, registering the smirk in Iwaizumi’s voice.

“How about you _make me_ shut up.”  
Oikawa smiled, taking him up on the offer.  
“I love you.” he whispered in-between kisses.  
“I love you too.”   
“More than your weird alien t-shirt?”  
He laughed in Iwaizumi’s mouth.  
“More than the entire universe itself, you asshole.”

**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeek, there it is guys, the final happy ending!  
> I can't not imagine that Oikawa's confession would involve a lot of gross crying and sniffling. After all, that kid is such a softie deep down <3
> 
> I really hope you liked this chapter! The story has almost come to a close, only a chapter left to tie up some loose ends.
> 
> If you guys would like to see a one-shot of any of the pairings, be it for something mundane from their every-day lives or some clarification on something on the plot, let me know! I'd be happy to write it xx
> 
> As always, thank you so so much for reading and supporting this fic-reading your comments and seeing so many of you leave kudos etc makes me a disgustingly happy squealing burrito. If you want, go ahead and contact me on my tumblr: http://dontmindme-imafangirl.tumblr.com
> 
> See you at the next chapter!


	15. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The take's over, the angst is over :^)

“I swear, only a fucking _shovel_ would be enough to cut away all that fat! It was hell. Pure _hell_ ”

Oikawa shuddered over his coffee as his friends laughed, Kuroo banging his fist on the table, eyes brimmed with tears of laughter. 

“Oh man that sounds _disgusting_ ” he wiped away the tears from his eyes, shoulders still shaking with laughter, “But I’m so glad you passed anatomy man. And with an ‘A’ at that! Good job!”

Bokuto nodded along, replacing his loud laugh for a soft smile, both men proud of their friends’ accomplishment. 

“Ah, thanks. But hey! You two finally finished all your projects didn’t you? How did they go?”

Bokuto and Kuroo gave each other a look that Oikawa could only describe as completely apathetic.

“Eh. We passed. We’ll survive.” Bokuto shrugged, bringing his own cup of coffee to his lips.  
“I don’t think I knew what lack of sleep was before finals week. When they say university students go through anything to survive it…they’re not kidding.” Kuroo muttered, his fingers clenched around his plastic cup, face grim and looking down.

“Bro. This idiot mixed Red Bull with Turkish coffee this Cypriot friend of ours made him and took it as a shot. I found him the next morning writing dates of WWI conferences on our curtains.” 

Oikawa stared at the two men as if they grew second heads. Or as if they suddenly became normal people. That’d be more horrifying than them growing a second head.

“Anyway, that’s all over and done with! What’s that thing you kept saying? ‘Qued est tu est’ or something?” Kuroo waved his hand, casually dismissing the horrors of the past.

Oikawa rested his head on his fist, closing his eyes and nodding, small smile on his lips.

“ _Est quod est._ ”

“Yeah! That. You haven’t said it lately, you always do when you wanna show off your fancy medical skills.”

“That’s a language, idiot. You’re studying history, you of all people should appreciate dead languages.” Bokuto scolded, slapping the back of Kuroos’ head, hair flopping around on the impact.

“They’re dead for a _reason_ ” he retorted, wincing from the hit.

Bokuto huffed, cheeks puffing but remained silent, letting Kuroo get back at the conversation with Oikawa.

 _This is it, the year is over. It’s finally over._ , Bokuto thought, taking in the banter of his two friends, finally able to relax his stiffened shoulders and tired brain.

From across Oikawa, Bokuto noticed a familiar figure entering the coffee shop, looking around dismissively. 

Bokuto got up and smiled, waving his hand so that the grumpy man could walk over to them. Oikawa noticed and raised an eyebrow, but beamed with joy when he turned around and saw Iwaizumi walking over.

“Babe! How did it go?” he moved to get up but Iwaizumi leaned over him, giving him a quick kiss before taking a seat next to him, nodding a greeting to Bokuto and Kuroo who grinned slyly at the gesture. 

Iwaizumi sighed, tiredness evident on the slump of his shoulders and dark circles under his eyes.

“I swear, I don’t know why people invented oral exams. I’ve been talking about different types of plankton for the last forty minutes.” He rubbed the bridge of his nose, Oikawa moving his hand to rub a soothing circle on his back.

“Yes, but you’re a nerd. A sea nerd. So how did it go?!”

Iwaizumi looked up and smiled, throwing a thumbs up in the air. Oikawa all but squealed, hugging him tight and tapping his feet to the floor as if there was no other way to express his joy, Bokuto and Kuroo congratulating Hajime with wide grins and high-fives.

“I swear that professor wanted to fail me so bad at first. Didn’t get the chance to though, he couldn’t give me anything less than a B.” 

“See, my point’s proven; this dude’s a sea nerd. Don’t be surprised if he wakes up one day and decides his life long dream is to become a mermaid. Last week he made me watch _The Little Mermid_ with him! _The Little Mermaid!_.” Tooru pointed to Hajime, turning to Kuroo and Bo as if he was sharing a secret Iwaizumi musn’t hear.

“Hey you fucker, don't skip the part where you _cried_ because you thought that she’d become sea foam like the original story. Or how you threw _popcorn_ at the sea when the evil witch appeared.”

Oikawa put a hand on his chest, obviously insulted. “You kept talking about how _not accurate_ their portrayal of lobsters was! You got _insulted_ over a fucking talking fish!”

“ _Excuse you_ , lobsters aren’t fish! And you kept saying that it’s genetically impossible for Ariel to be a red-head! I’m never watching Disney films with you again!”

“Okay, this is becoming a little intimate…Tooru, wouldn’t you prefer talking about your sex life, maybe? I’d take that any day over…” Bokuto moved his hand, “over _this._ ”  
Kuroo nodded in support, his face a grimace of pure utter disgust.

“Anyway, we should get going too.” Kuroo nodded and got up, checking the time on his phone, “Kit-um, _Kenma_ said they’ll be here in maybe 10 minutes.” 

Oikawa cooed, snickering behind his hand. “Aw, what’s wrong Kuroo? Haven’t used your _kitten’s name_ in a while? Got too accustomed to the _pet names?_ ”  
Kuroo glared at him but said nothing, his reddened face showing defeat.  
Bokuto patted his back in comfort and said goodbye to Iwaizumi and Oikawa, grabbing his now tomato-look-alike friend from the hem of his shirt and moving him out of the coffee shop.

Neither of his friends saw the fond smile Iwaizumi and Oikawa gave each other, nor the gentle linking of hands between the two men.

**********************

“I still don’t get why you didn’t sign up for the fresher’s week. It’d do you good to look around the campus, learn where’s what.”

They were on their way home, walking slowly side by side, blaring sun beaming down of them, as if trying to remind them that summer was here, bearing long warm never-ending days.

Kenma stared at him like he was insane.  
“I already know half the lecture halls thanks to you. Besides, won’t you tour me around?”  
He shifted his gaze away from Kuroo, looking down at his shoes whilst walking. But Kuroo picked up on the small signal, the little sign of embarrassment on Kenma’s cheeks and tip of his nose. He leaned close and linked his hand with his, smiling when Kenma laced their fingers together and squeezed his palm.

“Of course I will. But I know shit about the art facilities, the lecture halls I showed you are of the history department, so good luck finding someone to show you those. Ah, but I’ll go with you of course! Don’t glare at me like that!” He put a hand up defensively when Kenma shot him a displeased look. 

“That’s okay, Sugawara’s in the art facility. I’ll ask him.”  
_And you’re coming with me_ , was the unspoken agreement.  
As if Kuroo would leave Kenma alone after so long. Not now, now that he finally found him, now that he was able to be the reason for his smiles and gleaming eyes and soft laughs.

Kuroo smiled down at their linked hands, at Kenma’s small smile, squeezing his hand tight and leaning down to kiss the tip of his reddened nose, moving back to see his boyfriend’s face become even redder, pursing his lips and looking up at Kuroo.

“That was insufficient.” he stated deadpan, looking at him like it was the most normal thing to say.  
Kuroo blinked a few times and laughed, full heartfelt sound leaving his chest, clenching his stomach, in a way that it hadn’t for a long time before.

“Don’t worry. We got all the time we need for more.”

**********************

“What kind of idiot locks themselves out of their apartment. What. Kind.”

Bokuto laughed nervously, frantically searching through his pockets-Kuroo stopped by the coffee shop with Kenma, leaving him and Akaashi to head back home alone. Of course, that’s the ideal time for him to remember he doesn’t have his keys. Right the second they were standing outside the doorway.

Akaashi sighed but moved to the stairs, plopping down and stretching his arms. Bokuto followed suit, sitting down next to him. 

“Nothing else to do but wait I guess.”  
He leaned his head on his palms, resting on his knees, face turned to Akaashi. The younger man had his eyes close, head turned up, basking in the summer sun; the winter had been so cold that the blistering heat was more than welcome.

He could see the ethereal glow of the sun on Akaashi’s hair, black tips glowing greys and whites, little discreet freckles on his cheeks, long lashes casting shadows on his face, lips slightly parted and breathing in the fresh scent of summer; Bokuto couldn’t help but move his hand to graze Akaashi’s cheek, stirring the man and making him open his eyes, welcoming the eternal gaze of green.  
“Koutarou.”  
He smiled at the sound of his name, deep voice making his ears ring.  
Akaashi didn’t seem fazed by the sudden gentle behaviour but he let Bokuto continue his soft movements, moving from his cheek to his jaw, bringing his face close and kissing him with small butterfly kisses, so very befitting of a warm still day.

Akaashi smiled, moving his body closer to Bokuto’s, usual stoic behaviour gone in favour of a small soft smile, one of the rare ones that made Bokuto’s heart still.

“It’s over.” he hummed on Akaashi’s lips, making the boy move away.  
“What is?”

Bokuto smiled, resting his forehead on Akaashi’s.  
“This year. The wait. The agony. It’s all over.”

Akaashi huffed, small laugh escaping his lips.  
“It’s not an end; it’s a new beginning. Is it not?”

He took a minute to let the words sink in, before moving to kiss Keiji once more.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is a new beginning.”

********

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this fic is finished. It was so much fun writing it, and the support you guys gave me throughout it was incredible. It made my first fic-writing experience so so fun! A million thank you to you guys, I hope you enjoy this small epilogue <3
> 
> Now, as for future plans-I have TWO fics I'm working on, a KuroKen one and an IwaOi one. I'm not sure wether I'll post both at once or one now and save the other for later, but do tell me in the comment sections what you'd like to see-they're both equally angsty and painful, so I really do hope you'll enjoy them and support me on my second-ever fic, lol ;p
> 
> As always, thank you so so much for reading this, and I truly hope you enjoyed it. If you want to talk/request something/ask anything about the fic(s), do contact me either via comments here or my tumblr, dontmindme-imafangirl.tumblr.com
> 
> See you at the next fic!
> 
> (Also sorry for any mistakes on this fic-I got a big exam on Monday so didn't edit/proofread it >.

**Author's Note:**

> So.Wow. This is my very first fic I'm posting, and truth be told I'm pretty nervous. I couldn't *not* write a story based around my favourite OTPs though, so here we are! I know it's a pretty short chapter, but there's more to come, I'll try writing them weekly/biweekly (though I have a few written already). 
> 
> It'd mean a lot to me if you gave this fic a read and sent me your comments/left kudos :)  
> Also sorry for any grammar/syntax errors-English isn't my native language!  
> Thanks for reading, see you at the next chapter <3  
> oh, and big thanks to my best friend, who proof-read this despite not being in the fandom. Thanks trashqueen~
> 
> Oh-also; currently I have a T+ warning on this fic, BUT it will go to M sooner or later. Might change it for chapters to come, so please be warned!


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